Persistence at Christmas

 

Persistence at Christmas

By Ricardo Bimbela

 

Playing Santa

 

Everybody can use extra money around the holidays, and Christmas is UPS’s busiest season. I signed up for a temporary route. Who knew how much I’d love the job?

 

One rainy afternoon a couple days before Christmas I carried a box up a walkway. Three faces appeared at the window as I approached. The front door opened and a woman stuck her head out.

 

“Could you go around the back?” she whispered.

 

I gave her a wink. This wasn’t the first time I’d helped a mom keep a Christmas surprise.

 

“Did the kids see?” my driver, Dan, asked when I got back to the truck.

 

I shook my head. “But not for lack of trying.” We laughed and started off down the street. “Now I know how Santa Claus feels.”

 

I really did feel like Santa Claus. There was nothing like bringing people something they really needed or wanted. Omaha steaks, books they couldn’t wait to read, even replacement bathroom fixtures were fun to deliver, especially if they were a gift for someone else. A lot of people would be happy Christmas morning in part because of me.

 

A Lost Package

 

We turned onto a short street with only three houses. We knew it well. As we pulled to a stop a woman came up to the truck.

 

“Do you have something for me?” she asked, pointing to her house. She sounded anxious.

 

“I’m sorry. Today’s package is for the house next door.”

 

“Mine must’ve gotten lost,” she said.

 

Dan and I exchanged a look of concern. We’d delivered 1,440 packages without a glitch. We didn’t want even one to go astray.

 

“Maybe one of your neighbors has it,” I said.

 

I checked at the house next door, but they had no extra packages. No one answered at the house across the street.

 

“They’re the only other people on the block,” I said.

 

The woman looked on the verge of tears.

 

“What was in it?”

 

“A Santa suit,” she said. I might have laughed if she didn’t look so upset. Obviously, this Santa suit was important. “My husband is going to wear it Christmas Eve. We want to make this Christmas extra special for our son. He’s seven and he’s… well, he’s been very sick.”

 

We had to find that package! According to our tracking records we had definitely delivered the woman’s package to the right street, but not the right address. The package had to be in that empty house. We didn’t even have a phone number.

 

Praying for a Christmas Miracle

 

For the next two days I thought of nothing except that package. But the house stayed empty and I had no way of getting inside.

 

Santa could solve this problem by magic, I thought as I climbed into the truck for my last day on the job, December twenty-third. I needed God’s help. Please, let me find that package. It would be the best Christmas gift you could give me.

 

All day I prayed for a miracle. But none came. Just after sunset we turned down the little street once more. As we passed the house with the sick child, I spotted his mother standing in the garage. She looked sad. Like she’d given up. Maybe it was time I did too.

 

“Hey,” Dan said. “The garage door’s open.” He pointed across the street. For the first time in days there were signs of life at the mystery house. A couple was getting out of a car. I almost broke my neck running over to catch them. “Did you find a package by any chance? A package that doesn’t belong here?”

 

“We just pulled in to check on our friends’ house,” one of them said. “They’re on vacation. But we’d be glad to look around for you.”

 

Moments later I was springing across the street with the long-lost box in my hands. “UPS, we deliver!” I announced as I handed it over.

 

“I’ve been trying to find a replacement suit for days!” the woman said. “Nobody could get it to us by Christmas Eve!”

 

Just then a little boy came to the door. He seemed fragile, but with the innocent face of an angel.

 

“This man has brought us a very important package,” his mother told him.

 

The boy looked up at me. “Thank you,” he said. “Do you like fruitcake?”

 

He went into the house and returned with a box wrapped with a ribbon.

 

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

 

“Looks like you got a present too,” Dan said when I got back to the truck with the box.

 

I sure did. And I didn’t mean the fruitcake.