Summary:\u00a0 This story was written for the 2016 Advent Collection.<\/p>\n
Rating:\u00a0 G\u00a0 (5,220 words)<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Le R\u00e9veillon by Puchi Ann<\/strong><\/p>\n Underneath a star-studded sky, Adam Cartwright rested his folded arms on the top rail of the corral and breathed, deeply and contentedly, of the crisp, pine-scented air. Now, this was how Christmas was supposed to smell! Not that the aromas he\u2019d savored back East these past four years had been unpleasant, but they hadn\u2019t evoked the holidays with quite the same vitality as this icy tang.<\/p>\n How he had looked forward to celebrating the Cartwright traditions again, beginning with this morning\u2019s commemoration of St. Lucia\u2019s Day in honor of Hoss\u2019s mother, Inger. Ever since she\u2019d come into their lives, their Christmases had begun, as hers had back in Sweden. The first had been magical, as had been the way she\u2019d transformed the lives of a lonely little boy and a broken man, still grieving the loss of his first wife. Of course, there\u2019d been only that one blissful morning when she\u2019d awakened them clad in her white nightgown, a red ribbon around her waist and a wreath of lighted candles in her golden hair as she presented them, in their beds, with the yellow-tinted buns and hot drinks. Even after her death on the trail, however, they\u2019d found a way to remember her every December 13th<\/sup>. Instead of the wreath of candles, they\u2019d settled for a single glowing light in a circle of evergreen in the center of the table; then they\u2019d breakfasted on warm, iced rolls, at first simple cinnamon ones, but when first Marie and then Hop Sing had done the baking, they\u2019d known to add a pinch of saffron to bring out the sunny color of Inger\u2019s Swedish treats.<\/p>\n This morning\u2019s celebration had been all he\u2019d hoped for, except for Marie\u2019s absence at the table. No one mentioned her, probably because they\u2019d had the chance to face that empty chair several times in the years he\u2019d been away, but this was Adam\u2019s first Luciadagen<\/em> without Marie, and he missed seeing her smiling at Pa\u2019s side. Only for a moment, though. This was Inger\u2019s day; Marie\u2019s would come.<\/p>\n Or so he\u2019d thought. What had sent him out into the cold night air was the need to think through what he\u2019d learned, just as supper was ending. When he\u2019d mentioned that he was looking forward to le<\/em> r\u00e9veillon<\/em>, a Creole tradition Marie had introduced into their Christmas seasons, Little Joe had asked, \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d and even Hoss had looked a bit bemused.<\/p>\n Adam had somehow evaded answering the question and excused himself, saying there was something he needed to check in the barn. He\u2019d never made it that far, and he hadn\u2019t gotten far in trying to figure out why his father, so careful to preserve the traditions of his mother Elizabeth and those of Inger, had allowed Marie\u2019s to fade into the shadows of the past. Maybe shadow was exactly the right word; maybe the shadow of his grief still cloaked Pa\u2019s heart so thickly that he couldn\u2019t bear any reminder of the woman he had loved longer, if not better, than his other cherished wives. Grief had lingered that long after his own mother\u2019s death, although Adam hadn\u2019t recognized it as that then. To him, who had never known anything else, the dark cloud that sometimes hovered overhead was just part of who Pa was. Not until Inger came had he known real laughter and light, and that was why it seemed especially appropriate to remember her on the Swedish tribute to the winter soltice, which day by day would bring back the sun again, just as she had to their lives.<\/p>\n Had Pa never found the sun again after Marie\u2019s death? He\u2019d seemed to. Had it all been pretense, to send Adam off to college without guilt over relinquishing the responsibility that had made him give up that dream for a while? Had his little brothers been suffering under that cloud of grief ever since he left, the way he had as a small boy? The letters from home had seemed cheery enough, but had they, too, been pretense? He didn\u2019t really think his father, much less Hoss or Little Joe, had it in them to cover their feelings that well\u2014he was the only Cartwright really good at that\u2014but he didn\u2019t know how else to explain the abandonment of a tradition that Marie had treasured and they had all enjoyed.<\/p>\n He\u2019d been so lost in thought that he hadn\u2019t heard the footsteps coming up behind him, so he jerked upright when he heard his father call his name.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, son,\u201d Ben chuckled. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to startle you.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam turned and propped his elbows on the rail behind him. \u201cGuess I was woolgathering, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re not sheep men, boy,\u201d Ben chided playfully. Then he sobered at the sight of Adam\u2019s wrinkled brow. \u201cSomething troubling you, son?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam had always been the most direct of the Cartwright boys. \u201cYes, sir,\u201d he said softly. \u201cI noticed, when I mentioned r\u00e9veillon<\/em>, that neither Hoss nor Little Joe appeared to know what I was talking about. Do you not celebrate that tradition any longer?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s lips pursed for a moment, but he answered simply, \u201cNo, we . . . uh . . . haven\u2019t kept it up.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMay I ask why?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben uttered a rough laugh. \u201cOf course, you may ask. I\u2019m just not sure I have a satisfactory answer.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs it . . . too painful?\u201d Adam asked hesitantly.<\/p>\n Ben smiled softly then. \u201cNo, son. It\u2019s not painful to think of Marie, if that\u2019s what concerned you.\u201d He shrugged. \u201cI\u2019m not really sure why we stopped. Maybe it was too painful that first year. Then . . . well . . . it\u2019s a harder tradition to carry on than Inger\u2019s. All that requires is eating a delicious breakfast, and Hop Sing prepares that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe prepared le<\/em> r\u00e9veillon<\/em>, too, as I recall,\u201d Adam observed.<\/p>\n \u201cIn part,\u201d Ben agreed. \u201cMarie took charge of the gumbo, though.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt wouldn\u2019t have to be gumbo, would it?\u201d Adam pressed. \u201cAny festive meal would do, and since Hop Sing doesn\u2019t attend the midnight mass, there\u2019s no need for something to simmer slow while we\u2019re away.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben sighed. \u201cThat\u2019s the real reason. Of all the outlandish times to hold a church service! I suppose it was just too much trouble to drag two small boys out in the cold and haul them home and then try to calm them down and convince them to go to bed after a large meal in the middle of the night.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe did all that when she was here, and they didn\u2019t seem to suffer any ill effects.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben cocked his head and studied Adam\u2019s face. \u201cI didn\u2019t realize it meant so much to you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot to me,\u201d Adam said, \u201calthough I was looking forward to Christmas as we\u2019ve always celebrated it. I\u2019ve missed that these last four years.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben reached out to stroke his son\u2019s muscular arm. \u201cOh, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut I was thinking more of Little Joe. Doesn\u2019t he deserve to honor his mother\u2019s traditions as I do those of my mother and Hoss his, the way we did this morning?\u201d Adam pressed.<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t do anything to honor your mother\u2019s,\u201d Ben disputed. The thought of Elizabeth, so long gone now, suddenly sent a tender ache through his heart.<\/p>\n Adam shook his head. \u201cOf course, we do. You and she were both from New England. I always assumed, when we followed your traditions, we were following hers, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI suppose that\u2019s true.\u201d Ben nodded, a warm smile touching his own lips as he recalled a long ago Christmas with his first wife. The traditions had been the same he observed in the home of his parents, but somehow made more alive and vibrant by Elizabeth\u2019s touch.<\/p>\n \u201cSo, as I was saying,\u201d Adam pursued, \u201cdoesn\u2019t Little Joe deserve to know how his mother celebrated Christmas?\u201d Seeing his father\u2019s ashen face, he lowered his voice. \u201cOr is there some other reason that makes r\u00e9veillon<\/em> . . . unpleasant for you?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben exhaled slowly. \u201cYou know me too well.\u201d He shook his head, more, Adam sensed, in self-reproach than anything else. \u201cI can\u2019t walk through the doors of that church, Adam. All I\u2019d feel there is anger, frustration.\u201d He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat frustrates you?\u201d Adam asked, thinking it best to deal first with the simpler emotion.<\/p>\n Ben laughed. \u201cThat one\u2019s easy. I can\u2019t understand a word they say, son! You may speak Latin, but I don\u2019t, and your little brothers certainly don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI remember,\u201d Adam said. \u201cIt was the reason you and Hoss only went to mass with her on Christmas Eve.\u201d Since he understood Latin well, he had sometimes chosen to accompany Marie on the occasions she took Little Joe with her to mass. \u201cAnd the anger?\u201d he probed next, although he suspected he knew the answer.<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s face hardened, the resentment evident in his countenance even now. \u201cYou know why,\u201d he all but growled. \u201cThat priest, kind as he was in all other ways, would never grant her forgiveness of her sin\u2014the sin of marrying me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know,\u201d Adam whispered, \u201cbut she never let it stop her from practicing as much of her faith as the Church would permit, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMuch good it did her!\u201d he fumed. \u201cThey wouldn\u2019t even let her be buried in hallowed ground, that one sin being such a stain on the purity of their sacred dirt that their dead bodies dare not come in contact with her!\u201d He spewed the words with a contempt Adam had never heard him address toward any living man.<\/p>\n He remained silent for a moment before finally saying, \u201cApparently, Marie absorbed more of the message of Christmas in her limited access to her church than you have in the full acceptance of yours.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is that supposed to mean?\u201d Ben demanded. Sometimes this newly college-educated son of his could be exasperatingly obtuse.<\/p>\n \u201cAren\u2019t you forgetting why the babe came to Bethlehem?\u201d Adam asked, as gently as he could. \u201cWasn\u2019t it to extend forgiveness to men? I know she understood that, because she forgave every wrong ever done her . . . whether by man\u201d\u2014a smile at his father\u2014\u201cor boy\u201d\u2014he touched his own chest in regret for his early ill will\u2014\u201cor an entire church that rejected her. She learned the lesson from the Babe of Bethlehem, and her life, short as it was, was the better for it.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben stared for a moment at his eldest son. \u201cWell, I guess I\u2019m just not as good a Christian as she was.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know better than that,\u201d Adam chided, still keeping his voice soft. \u201cOr, at least, I do. I understand the pain, Pa, honestly I do, but isn\u2019t it time to lay it down, to learn anew the message of Christmas, to forgive those that wronged . . . her? And wouldn\u2019t the resurrection of le<\/em> r\u00e9veillon<\/em> be a good way to start? After all, the word itself means \u2018awakening.\u2019 What if forgiveness itself were reawakened this Christmas Eve?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought you went back East to study architecture,\u201d Ben grunted. \u201cI didn\u2019t expect you to come home a preacher.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam laughed. \u201cFar from it, but to the extent I sounded like one, you can probably blame the requirement of daily attendance at chapel. Setting the sermon aside, how about it, Pa? Can we celebrate le<\/em> r\u00e9veillon<\/em>? For Little Joe, if nothing else?\u201d<\/p>\n As Ben exhaled slowly, an ounce of the anger and irritation seemed to pass from his body with his frosty breath. \u201cWell, I\u2019ve no objection to sharing a meal\u2014a light one, please\u2014in the middle of the night, provided you can talk Hop Sing into it, and you can take the boys to that midnight mass\u2014if they want to go\u2014but I don\u2019t choose to attend with you. I\u2019m still not quite a good enough Christian for that!\u201d He turned and strode forcefully toward the house.<\/p>\n \u201cThanks, Pa,\u201d Adam called after him.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cNow, you understand, Hop Sing, that it doesn\u2019t have to be gumbo. Any warm, filling soup will do.\u201d Adam had explained why he wanted to host r\u00e9veillon<\/em> in Marie\u2019s honor \u201cfor Little Joe,\u201d and eager for the cook\u2019s cooperation, he was trying to keep everything as simple as possible.<\/p>\n \u201cHop Sing make Missy Cartwright soup; he know how. Watch Missy, help chop, help watch pot. Can make, no problem,\u201d the cook insisted.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy, that\u2019s wonderful, Hop Sing,\u201d Adam said enthusiastically. \u201cIt will mean so much more to Little Joe if it\u2019s the soup his mother used to make.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMissy not make just soup,\u201d Hop Sing said with a frowning shake of his head. \u201cMany things, big dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I know,\u201d Adam said, \u201cbut we\u2019ll be eating a big dinner that afternoon. We don\u2019t really need two, do we?\u201d<\/p>\n The cook nodded decisively. \u201cHop Sing not need!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNor do we. I\u2019m sure you\u2019re right: we just need the gumbo and, maybe, some bread.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHop Sing make Missy Cartwright soup and bread,\u201d the cook agreed, adding after a brief pause, \u201cand wood cake.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam raised a questioning eyebrow. \u201cWood cake?\u201d He wasn\u2019t sure what that was. Some Chinese concoction to add to their truly eclectic celebration of Christmas?<\/p>\n Hop Sing looked exasperated. \u201cWood cake,\u201d he scolded, as if Adam should know what he meant. Seeing that the young man did not, his voice sharpened a bit. \u201cLike Missy make,\u201d he said insistently.<\/p>\n The light suddenly dawned as Adam pictured the festive log-shaped cake Marie had introduced to them. \u201cBuche de noel<\/em>. Of course, Marie did bake that. Do you have the recipe?\u201d He gave the air a calming pat when he saw Hop Sing\u2019s response. \u201cI mean, of course, you know how to prepare that; you know how to prepare so many things from different cultures. That will be a terrific addition, Hop Sing!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor Little Joe,\u201d the cook said, with his apron dabbing at a drop of moisture in the corner of his eye.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Adam agreed, although he secretly thought that cake might end up being more for Hoss than any of them.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Much as Ben hated doing the books, he was being especially diligent in their upkeep throughout December. He didn\u2019t want the holidays sullied by having that hanging over his head, so that night, as he had the last couple of weeks, he went dutifully to his desk directly after supper and set to work, while his boys gathered before the blazing fire across the room for games or, in Adam\u2019s case, immersion in a good book.<\/p>\n There was no book that night, however. As soon as Adam had settled himself into his blue armchair, he called his little brothers to come to him.<\/p>\n \u201cNot now, Adam,\u201d Little Joe said stoutly. \u201cWe\u2019re gonna play checkers.\u201d<\/p>\n Curbing a familiar desire to lecture a certain little brother on respect for his elders, Adam said, \u201cYou still can. I just want to tell you about our plans for Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe flapped a deriding hand toward his older brother. \u201cWe know all that. We\u2019re gonna get up real, real early and open presents.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd then we\u2019ll have a big breakfast,\u201d Hoss said, looking up from his task of setting up the checkerboard, \u201cand a huge, fancy dinner later.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd play all afternoon. No chores!\u201d Little Joe chimed in. He cast a glance at his father and raised his voice. \u201cOf course, I\u2019ll probably be riding my new horse.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWould you two be quiet a minute?\u201d Adam demanded. \u201cI\u2019m trying to tell you that there\u2019ll be a slight change this year.\u201d<\/p>\n In alarm both younger boys scurried over to their brother. \u201cNo presents?\u201d Little Joe cried.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, yes, of course there\u2019ll be presents,\u201d Adam assured him, adding after a slight pause, \u201calthough I wouldn\u2019t count on that new horse. The one you have is perfectly good for now.\u201d He knew full well that his little brother wasn\u2019t getting a Christmas pony, and lowering the boy\u2019s expectation could only raise older brother in Pa\u2019s esteem, something Adam could certainly use at the moment.<\/p>\n \u201cNo fancy dinner?\u201d Hoss asked, his forehead a veritable field of furrows.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019ll be plenty of food, Hoss,\u201d Adam said with a sigh. \u201cNow, if you two would just lay off the questions for a couple of minutes, I\u2019ll tell you about our plans. There\u2019s going to be more, not less, of everything!\u201d<\/p>\n Both of the younger boys\u2019 mouths formed round, silent \u201cO\u2019s.\u201d Then Little Joe leaned on the arm of his brother\u2019s chair and said, \u201cTell, Adam; tell now.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam rolled his eyes. \u201cThat\u2019s what I\u2019m trying to do. Do you remember me mentioning le r\u00e9veillon<\/em> yesterday morning?\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe immediately produced a petulant pout. \u201cI remember you wouldn\u2019t tell me what it was.\u201d<\/p>\n Lips pursed, Adam, once again setting aside his desire for a lecture on respect for elders, acknowledged the rebuke with a curt nod. \u201cSorry, little buddy. I was just surprised that you didn\u2019t remember,\u201d he explained. \u201cOf course, you were only three the last time we celebrated it, so I guess it makes sense you would have forgotten.\u201d On reflection, he was only surprised that Hoss hadn\u2019t remembered. He drew out his ace in the hole. \u201cI thought you might like to revive the custom, Little Joe, since it was your mother who brought it to us.\u201d<\/p>\n That ace in the hole cemented a winning hand. The pout melted from Little Joe\u2019s face as he climbed into his big brother\u2019s lap. \u201cTell now,\u201d he ordered again.<\/p>\n The fog lifted from Hoss\u2019s face, driven by the sunlight of his widening smile. \u201cI remember that,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cYou did not,\u201d Little Joe chided.<\/p>\n \u201cBut I do now, Little Joe,\u201d Hoss insisted. \u201cI didn\u2019t remember that fancy word Adam used, but I remember Mama\u2019s Christmas.\u201d To prove it, Hoss rattled on, \u201cWe stayed up real late and went to town, to Mama\u2019s church, so\u2019s we could sing to the baby in the manger first thing Christmas morning. Then we came back here and had a great breakfast, the biggest ever.\u201d The furrows that had faded came back as he strained to express it just right. \u201cWell, it was more than breakfast. There was gumbo and cake and all sorts of things.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, boy!\u201d Little Joe cried. \u201cAnd then we opened presents?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust one,\u201d Hoss said. \u201cSanta hadn\u2019t got here yet\u2014reckon he started back East first\u2014but we each had one from Mama and Pa, and then we went to bed, so\u2019s Santa would have a chance to come with the rest of the presents.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe frowned slightly at the nonsense about Santa Claus, but if Hoss didn\u2019t know the truth yet, he wouldn\u2019t be the one to tell him. \u201cOkay,\u201d he said, \u201cnow what\u2019s gumbo?\u201d<\/p>\n After he\u2019d answered that one, Adam found himself plied with questions, fired in such rapid succession that he was certain the Army would welcome a weapon half as fast. Finally, his father came to his rescue with the firm suggestion that it was time for little boys to be in bed. Hoss cut a quick glance at the clock, but catching a glimpse of his father\u2019s frowning face in passing, decided not to mention that it wasn\u2019t really bedtime yet, at least not his. Presents could still be hanging in the balance. While his little brother might not know about Santa yet, Hoss for sure knew where the gifts really came from, so he demonstrated what a good boy he was by not only going meekly to bed himself, but helping to hurry Little Joe along, too.<\/p>\n \u201cWhew!\u201d Adam said, leaning back exhausted as his brothers tramped down the hall upstairs. \u201cThanks for pulling them off me, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n Shaking his head, Ben clucked his tongue. \u201cHow could you, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam sat up straight again. \u201cBut, Pa, you said we could celebrate le r\u00e9veillon<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben cleared his throat. \u201cI did not say you could tell Little Joe about it a good ten days ahead of time, but on your own head be it, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam laughed. \u201cOh, I think I\u2019ve answered every question he could possibly think of, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben arched a thoroughly amused eyebrow. \u201cYou\u2019ve been away too long. This is Little Joe we\u2019re talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d Adam sighed as memory rushed in. \u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Over the next ten days Adam had ample time to rue his early announcement of the proposed celebration.\u00a0 Little Joe became a veritable cauldron of questions, more bubbling to the surface every day, and when he ran out of those, he just started all over again, lest he have missed some important detail the first time around.\u00a0 Still, Adam handled them all with aplomb until the day his baby brother discovered that Pa wasn\u2019t coming into town with them. \u201cBut why, Adam?\u201d he demanded. \u201cWe always do everything together for Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam tried to explain without revealing the real reason. He certainly didn\u2019t want to poison the little boy\u2019s heart toward his mother\u2019s faith by revealing his father\u2019s ill will. Pa and she had agreed to expose Little Joe to both Catholic and Protestant traditions and let him make his own choice, once he was old enough. Pa hadn\u2019t followed that agreement since Marie died, but given the language barrier, that was probably understandable. Adam felt some chagrin that he\u2019d never thought of taking his little brother himself, but when he came back from college, it had seemed natural for them all to be in church together. Maybe he should offer to take the boy on occasion, but for now he\u2019d settle for just getting through le r\u00e9veillon<\/em> with his hide intact.<\/p>\n The trouble with that plan was that Little Joe was quite adept at recognizing a half-truth, so the same question came at Adam day after day as the younger boy probed for a more satisfactory response than \u201cPa has things to do here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat things?\u201d he\u2019d demand again and again, at times seeming to deliberately raise his voice so the question could be heard across the room at Pa\u2019s desk.<\/p>\n Adam finally had all he could take. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you ask him yourself?\u201d he suggested sharply. On your own head be it, Pa<\/em>, he thought, echoing what his father had said to him a few days before.<\/p>\n Little Joe sent a hesitant look toward the man whose pensive face was quickly buried in his bookwork. He glanced at Hoss, who wildly wagged his head from side to side. Looking back to Adam, Little Joe dropped his voice to say, \u201cMaybe after Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam leaned forward and whispered, \u201cI think that\u2019s a good idea.\u201d And that was the end of that question, although Adam would only have had to endure it one more day at that point.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Ben rolled restlessly across his mattress, but that was nothing new. Ever since his eldest son had brought up this whole r\u00e9veillon<\/em> nonsense, he\u2019d had nothing but restless nights. The audacity of the boy, preaching him a sermon on forgiveness! For this he\u2019d paid four years of expensive college tuition! But night after night Ben had wrestled with the bitterness and anger in his heart and had finally been forced to acknowledge them for what they were. Plain, unadorned unforgiveness, and he knew good and well what the Good Book said about that: if he refused to forgive others, he could expect no forgiveness for his own sins, which were as plentiful as any man\u2019s. Sometimes it was a powerfully uncomfortable thing to be a Christian.<\/p>\n Then his baby son had taken up where his older brother had left off, his sad little face preaching the sermon with even greater effect than Adam\u2019s eloquent words. The final straw had come tonight, when Little Joe had decided to drop the subject until \u201cafter Christmas.\u201d As if he\u2019d take away his little boy\u2019s presents, just for asking! He never wanted any of his sons to be afraid to come to him for any reason, and if harboring bitterness and unforgiveness had led to that, then bitterness and unforgiveness would have to go.<\/p>\n Those talons didn\u2019t let go easily, though. They had hurt her, those priests and their rigid rules! Any hurt he personally had felt over the church\u2019s opinion of him could be easily forgiven; there were plenty of men who didn\u2019t think much of him. But hurt given her? The memory of her tears carved gouges across his heart, and the talons sank deeper into the grooves. Maybe it was always like that; maybe we always feel more deeply the hurt given to those we love<\/em>, he mused. Just let anyone harm a hair on one of his boys\u2019 heads, for instance, and see how quickly he forgave them! He\u2019d track them down to the ends of the earth and wreak\u2014well, there you had it\u2014yet another violation of the Good Book, which clearly said vengeance belonged to God, not Ben Cartwright. On he wrestled through the night. At this rate the issue would be moot, anyway: he\u2019d be too exhausted to stay up for any midnight service, regardless of denomination!<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Morning finally arrived, and while Ben still didn\u2019t feel like forgiving anyone, he had, at least, reached a point of being willing to try. Perhaps the feelings would follow, but even without them he had come to a few grudging conclusions. Much as he hated how Marie had been excluded by her church, he had to admit that the priest had only been following its long-established practices, which Marie had known long before she violated them to marry him, and he had followed them with more kindness and leniency than many might have. Though he\u2019d never granted her absolution for that, he had, at least, heard her regular confession and assigned penance for all her other small offenses, whatever they might have been, and while the comfort of Holy Communion had been denied her, he\u2019d never prevented her attending services. Never, Ben conceded, had discipline been administered with such a compassionate hand.<\/p>\n Perhaps only a mist of forgiveness had watered his soul, but Ben had made one definite decision. If he couldn\u2019t face participating in this r\u00e9veillon<\/em> himself, he would, at least, do nothing to dampen his boys\u2019 enthusiasm. He mentioned it for the first time at breakfast, expressing the hope that his sons would enjoy their outing. By noon he could smile at their chatter and urge Adam to place a mattress and blankets in the back of the buckboard, in case his brothers wished to sleep on the way home. As supper ended, he reminded them to dress warmly for that long, cold ride into town. Then he disappeared upstairs.<\/p>\n Adam hoped he would come down again to see them off, but he knew better than to count on it. He wished he had thought to ask if Pa would join them for the r\u00e9veillon<\/em> feast, at least, but having already heard his opinion of a meal in the middle of the night, he hadn\u2019t dared ask. He\u2019d noticed the effort his father had made to be cheerful, even encouraging, about the evening\u2019s activities, so he couldn\u2019t blame him if he felt too drained to go a step further. Perhaps next year he\u2019d feel up to more.<\/p>\n Since Pa was absenting himself, it fell to Adam to make sure his brothers were warmly, but nicely dressed. He was just superintending the putting on of coats, caps, mufflers and gloves when Pa did come down the stairs. To Adam\u2019s surprise, his father was dressed in his Sunday suit and walking briskly toward the rack of coats by the door.<\/p>\n \u201cYou comin\u2019, Pa?\u201d Hoss asked, a happy grin spreading across his face.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course,\u201d Ben replied, as if there had never been any doubt. \u201cWe Cartwrights always do everything together on Christmas, don\u2019t we?\u201d he added with a smile at his youngest son as he borrowed the boy\u2019s words of a few days earlier.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah!\u201d Little Joe exclaimed, bouncing up and down with endless energy. \u201cLet\u2019s get this ravin\u2019 on started!\u201d<\/p>\n The others laughed merrily, and from that time on, whatever the celebration might be called elsewhere in the world, to the Cartwrights it would always be known as Ravin\u2019 On.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Ben herded his sons into the line of people filing out of the church after a service he\u2019d enjoyed far more than he\u2019d expected. The Latin had been as unfathomable as ever, at least to him, for though Adam, seated between his younger brothers, had translated for them, Ben could rarely hear the whispered words. As the majestic music soared over him, however, the peace and joy of the Savior\u2019s birth seemed to float down on the beautiful melodies and harmonies, and he found he didn\u2019t really need to know the words to recognize the message. The Babe was born in Bethlehem to bring peace and rejoicing to every erring heart, including one that had held onto resentment for much too long.<\/p>\n \u201cAh, I remember this sweet young face,\u201d he heard the priest say as they reached the door.<\/p>\n Father Gallagher\u2019s hand rested alongside Little Joe\u2019s cheek. \u201cGod bless you, my child,\u201d he said. Looking up, he smiled at the boy\u2019s father. \u201cIt\u2019s good to see you again, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d Ben said quietly, adding in explanation, \u201cI\u2019m here for the boy.\u201d<\/p>\n The priest nodded. \u201cI assumed as much . . . but you\u2019re always welcome, my friend.\u201d<\/p>\n Not trusting himself to words, Ben also responded with a nod before prodding his sons down the steps of the church. As they climbed into the wagon, he reminded the younger boys that they were welcome to sleep on the way home.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, no, Pa!\u201d Little Joe insisted as he wedged himself between his father and eldest brother on the wagon seat. \u201cWe\u2019re gonna sing all the way home.\u201d<\/p>\n A chuckle fluttered Ben\u2019s lips. \u201cWell, we\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n They did, indeed, see . . . and hear . . . all the way home, but Ben didn\u2019t mind . . . anything, that is, except the unabashed smirk on Adam\u2019s face. Even that didn\u2019t irk him too much. Four years since he\u2019d shared Christmas with that son. What could be better than all of them, together again, singing at the top of their lungs as they crossed Washoe Valley and headed up into the hills toward home.<\/p>\n The windows were glowing with welcoming light as they pulled into the yard. Making quick work of caring for the team, they all went into the house together, all of them seeming to sense that togetherness was the theme of the evening\u2014well, morning now.<\/p>\n As he rounded the corner into the dining room, Hoss gaped, wide-eyed, at the loaded table. \u201cWow,\u201d he said, the word drawn out in sheer wonder of the feast before him.<\/p>\n \u201cI told him to keep it light,\u201d Adam defensively assured his father.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, it is light\u2014for a royal banquet,\u201d Ben chuckled. Not satisfied with soup, bread and cake, Hop Sing had produced a lavish breakfast spread with bacon, sausage, biscuits, gravy and hotcakes, along with Marie\u2019s Creole dishes and both her special omelets and some cheesy scrambled eggs. \u201cWell, at least this should satisfy our need for breakfast. We can all sleep \u2018til noon if we like.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWanna bet?\u201d Adam asked wryly, adding with the relish he always felt when he could throw Pa\u2019s own words back at him, \u201cThis is Little Joe we\u2019re talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben responded exactly as Adam had a few days before. \u201cOh. Right.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Link to the 2016 Advent Calendar – Day 16 – All Through the Night<\/a> (by Belle)<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n