Santa's Helpers

It was a cold morning in Phoenix, two days before Christmas. Temperatures had dipped into the low 30s, making the car, even with the few blankets they had, uncomfortably cold. Marvin Jackson and his wife, Melba were huddled together in the front seat. Melba’s feet, covered by heavy woolen socks, rested on top of the small cooler on the car’s floor. Their three children, girls 6, 9 and 14, were taking turns sitting in the middle seat, trying to keep warm.

In spite of the frigid temperatures, Angela the six-year-old, did her best to focus on Christmas, just two days away. “Daddy, are we going to have a Christmas tree?” She asked.

Jackson hung his head and exhaled, his breath a visible testimony to his dismay. Melba     gently squeezed his hand and said, “I don’t think we’ll have room for a tree this year, honey.”

“It was a stupid question, Angie,” said Carlie, the oldest girl. “Obviously, we don’t have room for a tree. We don’t even have room for us in here.”

Bella, the middle child, the one with special needs, according to school administrators, started to cry. “Carlie, was that really necessary?” Melba asked.

“I’ll see what I can do girls. Might not be a whole tree, but maybe we could have a few branches, one for each of us,” Marvin said.

“Only thing they have here is stupid cactus,” Carlie said. On the Interstate two days ago, as they drove through the city, they were surprised to see so many Cactus plants and palm trees decorated for the Holiday. Colorful lights covered these exotic plants and trees, just like the traditional Christmas trees they were so familiar with in Iowa and Michigan. “It doesn’t matter anyway, Daddy. It’s not like we’re gonna get presents or anything.”

Carlie’s frustration was understandable. They had arrived in Phoenix after a 24-hour drive, made longer than necessary thanks to taking a wrong turn. They left the ramshackle house Marvin and Melba had rented for the last nine months in Des Moines. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson loaded their old car with as much as it could hold. A lot had to be left behind, some of it precious to the girls. Carlie, old enough to find her circumstances embarrassing, hated being forced once again, for the third year in a row, to say goodbye to friends. 

Recognizing another move was imminent, Marvin didn’t pay the rent the last four months, trying to save enough money for the trip to warmer climes. The previous winter was a nightmare. He and Melba simply couldn’t take the chance that they might be forced to make it through another cold winter in their car. He chose Phoenix even though Orlando or Tampa were a bit closer. He had visited Arizona one summer as a boy and loved it. He didn’t realize Phoenix could get as cold as it did at night. He knew it could get into the 40s, but this was a good ten degrees colder. Watching the condensation escape from his daughters’ mouths made him miserable.

It was 7:30. The sun was up. Soon the temperature would be bearable. “I gotta go,” he said to Melba. He would start walking to the various businesses in the area, including a few factories and distribution centers. He had deliberately parked for the night in an industrial area to make it easier to get around to places that might have a job opening. He suggested to Melba that they drive around and get familiar with the city, maybe look for safer parking spots, areas where they might be less likely to be noticed.    

There was a time when he easily could have found work in an office environment, He had been a successful customer service manager for almost fifteen years, working for a retail giant. But the market crash in ’08, was devastating. He lost most of his life savings and then his job, which led to a bout with substance abuse, mostly alcohol. It took its toll, but he was clean now, had been for more than two years. Still, he couldn’t find a job that was comparable to what he once had. Being homeless made it nearly impossible to find work in any well-established organization that paid well. 

Too, the bad years had aged him. Every time he passed a mirror, even a glimpse of himself was a disappointment, a shock in fact. He looked ten years older than his 41 years. And, he had to admit he looked like a guy who had been on a long bender, much longer than the four years he spent in hell. His wife Melba, stuck with him. Why he didn’t know and frankly, he was afraid to ask.

Melba had worked as a nurse’s aide in a nursing home while she attended nursing school. She was about half-way through the program when things got tight. When having a place to live became anything but certain, she quit working to keep an eye on her children.

Hands in his pocket, Marvin walked down the street, looking for a public restroom. He needed to clean up. Before he asked for a job, he needed to look presentable to prospective employers. After walking three blocks he saw a gas station convenience store and walked in. He smelled fresh coffee and fast food. His stomach perked up, but Melba had what was left of their money. He walked past the food and drink to the restroom, hoping the clerks were too busy to notice him. His clothing was clean, but wrinkled and torn in a few spots.

Once inside he turned on the water, cold only, of course. He washed his face and hands and then applied soap to his stubble. He pulled out his razor and shaved. It hurt, every stroke. He knew it would be easier to grow a beard, but he was afraid that would make him look even older. He looked in the mirror, checking to make sure he got it all. When he stepped outside a woman wearing a convenience store shirt was waiting for him. The name on her badge said Kristen. She handed him a cup of coffee and two donuts. “Most days I would have sent Earl in after you and kicked you out. But it’s Christmas time. Take the donuts and coffee, but don’t come back here.”

“Thank you,” Marvin said. “I’m looking for work. Do you have any openings?”

“You won’t find work around here. The smart snowbirds, the ones that get here in September, got the jobs. You’re a bit late, bud.”

“Would you mind if I eat my breakfast over there at one of your tables? I won’t be a problem, promise.”

“I guess not, but like I said, don’t come back here.” There was a time when Marvin would have handed the cake and coffee back to the woman and left, just to let her know that charity without a heart wasn’t really charity. After a while, he learned that refusing charity when you needed it wasn’t a character building exercise.

He ate his breakfast quickly. Then he was back out on the street, feeling better. It didn’t last long. He was turned down everywhere. Sometimes people were kind. More often, he was told no with the shake of a head, as if uttering the word, no was too good for him. One guy gave him a lecture. This was about ten o’clock. The man said he should have been there no later than 7:30 if he really wanted a job. When Marvin asked if there was a job open at that time, the guy said, “Hell no, but there sure as hell ain’t no job when it’s almost lunch time before you get here.”    

By 11:30 he was worn out and hungry again. Thankfully, the weather had gotten warmer. It was in the high 50s and quickly headed to 65. He was about to start his long walk back to the car when his eye caught a Christmas tree lot across the street. He noticed a Fraser fir tree was lit up to attract customers. It was the kind of place where he and Melba used to buy their tree.

He walked over to the lot thinking about how he should ask for a few branches. There were some sitting in a pile near the spot where workers trimmed trees for buyers. He stood on the edge of the lot trying to figure out who was in charge. In the middle of the lot, stood a big man with a shaved head and a goatee. He stood behind a table, under a small tent, collecting money.

Marvin took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Excuse me sir, may I have a moment of your time?”

The man looked him over, sizing him up quickly. “What’s yours?”

“I’m the unemployed father of three girls. I can’t afford a tree, but I was wondering if you could spare a few branches, five to be exact.”

“I can sell you a small tree for about twenty bucks. You’ll be a hero, man.”

“I wish I could do that. Sorry for taking up your time.”

The man put his clipboard and pen down and walked from behind the table. “I can give you the branches but I’m guessing you got nothing to put under them for your kids, right?”      

Marvin didn’t answer. He turned to walk away. He had no interest in hearing another lecture.

“You have anything against working?” the man asked.

Marvin turned to face the man. “No, I’ve been looking for work all morning.”

“You look like a guy who is capable of working. Why can’t you find a job?”

“Oh, I have been offered work here and there, but the job goes away when I tell them my address is 1993 Buick LeSabre.”

The big man laughed, then made an apologetic gesture. “You want to work today? I can use somebody the next couple of days.”

Marvin was momentarily stunned. He felt himself stand a little straighter. “Absolutely, I’m ready to do whatever you need.”

“This is a cash deal, under the table. Name’s Jeff, by the way.”

“Marvin Jackson.” He put his hand out and shook hands with Jeff. “How much you paying if you don’t mind my asking.”

Jeff reached into his pocket for a can of snuff. He took a bit and stuck it in his mouth under his lower lip. “I’ll give ya ten bucks an hour.”

Marvin nodded. “That’ll be fine.”

“Just curious, where do you park that 1993 Buick LeSabre, Marvin?”

“Last night it was Pinyon Pine Avenue.”

Jeff laughed again. “Pinyon’s don’t make good Christmas trees.” He called one of his men, a short, wiry, guy standing by a flatbed truck with wooden side rails. “Hey, Junior come over here a minute.” He told the man that he was in luck, that he had some help the next couple of days fetching trees and fashioning Christmas wreathes. “Junior here is a good man, been with me a long time. He’s gonna show you what to do, Marvin.” Then to Junior he said, “He don’t work hard enough, just send him on his way.”       

Junior and Marvin rode in silence for a mile or two. Then Junior explained what they would be doing. “We got to pick up trees from the nursery and haul them back to the lot we was just on. Most of these trees come from somewhere’s else. Arizona ain’t a place where you find your Douglas Fir or Fraser fir, you know the kind people like for Christmas,” Junior said. “Maybe you already know that.”

“No, just got here from Iowa.”

“Well, Jeff, the guy you met, he owns the nursery. Different guy since his wife died. Easier goin’ I guess. Anyway, he buys like a ton of trees and stores ‘em at his nursery. We’ll get on it as soon as we get lunch.” Junior pulled the truck into a tiny strip mall that had a dilapidated row of stores, including a small Mexican restaurant. “Don’t let the looks of the place fool you. Best Mexican in the southwest.”

“You go eat, I’ll wait here.”

Junior sat for a moment behind the wheel, twisting his lips sideways as if he was thinking hard. “You gotta eat man. We’ll be carrying a lot a trees a long ways. You’ll never make it you don’t eat. Might as well let you off right here.”

Marvin shrugged. “Don’t have any money.”

Junior lit a cigarette. “Don’t tell Jeff I was smokin’ in his truck. Guess I should have known, seeing that you took this lousy job on the spot like that,” he said. “I’ll lend you ten bucks. You can get a pretty good meal here for that.” The men got out of the truck. Marvin thanked Junior. After lunch, it took fifteen minutes with all the traffic to get to the nursery. They started loading the truck, first the Douglas firs and then the Frasers. Junior insisted they carry the trees. “No dragging them,” he said, “Can’t get the desert on them.”

Every tree weighed at least thirty pounds. Many of them were heavier. Marvin tried not to think about how much his back would hurt that night. In fact, the thing that worried him most was that he would be dirty and smelly when he got back to the car. His wife and daughters would hate that. They got back to the lot at three and immediately started unloading. Jeff barked some orders about where to place them. Marvin was exhausted but determined. It dawned on him that it felt good to work.  Hard physical labor felt good.

After they unloaded the last two trees, Junior showed Marvin how to make a wreath from the loose branches, the kind Marvin had stopped by to beg for. It was tedious work, but a welcome relief from lugging trees. His work was steady in spite of the tiny cuts and scratches he was accumulating on his fingers and wrists.    

At six o’clock, Jeff told the men they could knock off for the day. Marvin figured he had seventy dollars coming to him. He wondered if he would be paid for his work now, or have to wait until the next day’s work was done. After he cleaned the tools and the work area, he walked over to Jeff and thanked him again for giving him a chance. “You did a good job. Junior says you’re no slacker.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out three twenties and a ten dollar bill. “See you in the morning at nine. We don’t open until then.” He started to walk away, but turned back toward Marvin. He pointed to the pile and said, “You can have those loose branches you wanted.”

Marvin took the money and went looking for Junior. He owed him ten dollars. Junior saw him coming and said, “Forget it man. Your first day on the job, my treat.”

“I can’t let you do that. I won’t be able to buy you lunch tomorrow, or anytime really. I’d feel better if you took it.” He stuck the bill out and Junior accepted it.  

With sixty dollars in his pocket, Douglas fir branches in his left hand, the walk back to his Buick and his waiting family was so much better than the walk he took that morning. And he had reason to believe he could earn at least ninety bucks the next day, Christmas Eve. He decided he would surprise the girls and take them to the gas station where he got cleaned up that morning, put some gas in the Buick’s tank and let them each pick a treat.

But when he approached the spot where the car was that morning, he saw only an empty space. Where was the car and where were Melba and the girls? Most likely they had been told to move on by some cop in a patrol car. But Marvin was worried that maybe one of the girls got sick. They could be in an emergency room somewhere. A couple of years ago, that actually happened. Marvin had been out looking for work all day. When he got back to the Buick, they were nowhere in sight. They couldn’t afford cell phones, so Marvin searched the area frantically, looking for them. About two hours later he went back to their original spot and saw his daughter, then just twelve years old standing there.

From then on, they agreed that if Melba and the girls weren’t able to stay at the location where he left them, they would meet up at the nearest Catholic Church. Marvin didn’t remember seeing one during his travels that day. In spite of his weariness, he walked quickly back to the gas station and started asking people where the nearest Catholic Church was as they walked into the convenience store. A woman in her 60s said there was one about four miles away. She started to give him directions, but then she noticed that Marvin’s face was a frozen mask of dismay. “You need a ride?”

“Please, yes. I can pay you,” He said.

“No worries. Just wait here until I get what I came for.” The woman drove him to the church. Having heard his story, she insisted on driving into the lot and circling to see if Marvin’s family was there. The car was parked at the end of the lot, backed into the last space, next to the fence. The woman parked and got out of her car. She walked with Marvin toward his car. Suddenly the doors opened and Melba and the girls jumped out, the girls squealing in delight, because Marvin had found them. Melba hugged her husband tightly. Then each of the girls in turn. Angela, the six year old said, “Daddy, you stink.” They all laughed. Then Angela noticed the tree branches. “See, I told you he would bring them!” Even Carlie smiled. Bella said, “I want the big one.”

The woman, who was tall and matronly, sized up the situation. “I’m Donna Gant. Come with me. Father Ramon will want to meet you.”

Father Ramon wasn’t as eager to meet them as Ms. Gant suggested. The old priest was grumpy. He had been relaxing, in the rectory, watching television. “Donna, what is it with you? Do you roam the streets looking for the homeless?”

Marvin and Melba were shocked. They turned to go. “Don’t run off,” the priest said. “Let me see if I can find a spot for you at the shelter.  Are you just five or are there more waiting in the car?” The priest wasn’t wearing his regular cassock or collar. A man of about seventy, he was dressed in jeans and a white shirt. His glasses hung down on the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you, but we prefer not to stay in shelters with our daughters and all,” Melba said.

Father Ramon stroked his chin. “You can leave now Donna,” he said.

The woman smiled and said goodbye to the Jacksons. “He’s a grouch, but Father Ramon is a good man.”

Father Ramon waited until she left. “Let’s see if we can’t get you folks something to eat.” He looked at Marvin. “You have a change of clothes?”

“In the car.” The priest instructed him to get a change of clothing and meet him in the church basement where he could take a shower. Marvin asked if the rest of his family might do the same.

“Of course,” the priest said. Then he placed a call to his housekeeper and asked her to come to the kitchen in the rectory. He asked her to put together a meal for five to be served in the dining room. By the time everyone had showered and walked back to the rectory, the dining room table was set with festive red, lit candles at the center. There were hamburgers, hot dogs, rolls and baked beans on the table. The priest gave a brief blessing before they began to eat. While they were eating, Father Ramon mentioned the shelter again. “I appreciate your concerns Mrs. Jackson, but I’m sure you realize, that you’re more vulnerable in your car than you would be in the shelter.”

“We had a bad experience in a shelter last year, Father. I was assaulted in a county facility in Waterloo, Iowa. It was stopped before I was completely compromised, but my children witnessed the incident.” 

“I see.” The priest realized he was not going to be able to persuade the Jacksons to spend the night in a shelter. He was reluctant to let them spend the night in their car on church property though, because if anything untoward happened, he and the parish could be held responsible. His was not a wealthy parish. He excused himself for a few minutes. When he returned, he said, “I have arranged for you to stay tonight at a motel two streets from here. It’s a good size room. Should be big enough for all of you. Of course, if you can all fit into a Buick LeSabre, any room should be big enough.”

He couldn’t resist the little jab. He knew he should be ashamed, but he was tired of people who had the nerve to knock on his door for a handout, and then refuse to behave sensibly.  What he really longed for at that moment was retirement.     

As soon as the Jackson family got settled in their room, Melba got the little ones put to bed. She put some water in the ice bucket and arranged the tree branches in a circular pattern. She cried a little, but said nothing. When they got into bed, Marvin told her about his day and that he had work in the morning. Melba told Marvin what happened that day. That she had taken the girls for a ride, driving through Scottsdale’s resort areas and up to Carefree Desert Gardens. “We had a good day, really, but then I got lost and couldn’t find the place where we were parked this morning. The girls got scared and we were so low on gas that I stopped at the church as soon as I saw it.”

“You did exactly what we said we would do.” They quickly drifted off to sleep.

Christmas Eve morning turned out to be the coldest in Phoenix in thirty-seven years, a low of 25 degrees. Marvin felt bad that he had to get everyone up early, but there was no way he could walk to the tree lot. They checked out of the motel. Melba found two quarters buried in the bottom of her purse and left them for the maid. Marvin started to object, but the look in Melba’s eyes shamed him.

They got gas at the same station where Marvin had eaten breakfast the day before. Already clean shaven, (his first hot water shave in a long time) he walked in and looked for Kristen, the woman who gave him the donuts and coffee. He saw the all too familiar look of distress in her eyes. He was ready for her. He held up two twenty dollar bills, what he had left after putting gas in the tank. She smiled and walked over to him. “You rob a bank? The clean-shaven crook, huh?”

“I got some work.” He let the girls each pick out two donuts and milk. He had coffee and a chicken and biscuit sandwich. Melba claimed she wasn’t hungry, but he wouldn’t hear of it. They ate at the table where he sat the morning before. When he got up to go, he handed Melba the money he had left, keeping only enough to pay for lunch that day. But Kristen stopped them at the door. She handed them a bag filled with sub sandwiches. “For later, Merry Christmas. Come back anytime you have the money to pay for what you want.”

They all said thank you. Melba and the girls got in the car. Marvin decided to walk to the tree lot. They agreed to meet at the gas station that night. As they pulled away, Angela said, “We left our tree in the motel room. Can we go back and get it?”

Junior didn’t show up for work that morning. “Too cold for his Mexican blood,” Jeff said. “You can drive, can’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m a very good driver.”

“I’m really taking a chance here. You remember where the nursery is?”

Marvin got to the nursery and started loading trees. Jeff told him to pick up ten Noble Firs too. He loaded those first. Working alone, it took him longer to fill the truck. His muscles ached and he wished he had a pain reliever. Two men who worked in the nursery stood around and watched him lift and carry trees. They did not offer to help.

Driving back to the tree lot, Marvin saw Junior about two blocks from the lot. He must have been waiting for him, because as soon as he saw the truck he started waving it down. Marvin pulled over and Junior got in. “Thanks, man. Still kinda cold out there. Listen, I need a favor. You got to tell Jeff I was at the nursery waiting for you. Tell him we loaded the trees together. That way I don’t lose the hours.”

“I don’t know if I can do that, Junior.”

“Why not man? You ain’t one of them do-gooders are you?”

Marvin slowed the truck down. They were getting close to the lot. “First of all, there were two guys there. They will know you weren’t on the lot. Look at the time. It took me twice as long to load this morning. Don’t you think Jeff is going to ask about that?”

“If he does, we just tell him it was cold and we had to take breaks. It’s no big deal, man. I hate to bring this up, but I bought you lunch yesterday when you was broke.”

They pulled onto the tree lot. “You gonna help me man?”

“I’m not going to say anything unless I’m asked. Best I can do.”

Jeff saw the men unloading the truck and walked over. “Yo, Junior, you meet the truck a block away from here?”

“No way, boss. I met Marvin here at the nursery. I was there when he showed up.” Jeff looked at Marvin, who was a study in concentration, lifting one of the Noble firs off the truck. He was about to say something to him, but thought better of it.  Instead he said, “You guys sure took your sweet time loading up. It’s Christmas Eve. Get that thing unloaded and go back for another load. And be quick about it.”

On the ride back to the nursery, Junior, who was driving now, said, “See man, nothing to it. You act like this is some big thing when you won’t even be here after today. And that big Mexican, Jeff is ripping you off man, giving you ten an hour when I’m getting fourteen.”

“Let’s go to the Mexican place again,” was all Marvin said. They ate lunch without talking to each other. Junior chatted with a couple of young women he knew who happened to be sitting at a table nearby. 

While they were filling the truck with another load of trees, Marvin kept his mind occupied thinking about the money and whether he could spend a little bit of it to get the girls and Melba something for Christmas. They would have to spend the night in the car and it would be just as cold as it was the night before. Getting a room would wipe them out. He wondered too how many times Junior had pulled that routine on Jeff. Not his problem of course. He was grateful that Jeff didn’t ask him to vouch for Junior.

When the truck was loaded, Junior asked a white haired elderly man, who was standing outside the office, for the time. It was only 3:30. “We got to kill some time man. Won’t look good if we get back there too early.” The old man shook his head and said something in Spanish. Junior showed him his middle finger.  

When they got in the truck, Marvin said, “I think Jeff needs these trees now. The lot was really busy. We need to go.”

“We ain’t going nowhere, idiot. In fact, you’re done. Jeff said I could fire your ass if you didn’t work. Take off man.”

Marvin wasn’t an especially brave man, not physically. But he was sure he could dispatch with Junior without a problem. Yet, he knew that wasn’t the solution. Junior reached over and opened the passenger door. “Out.”

Marvin stepped out of the truck and Junior took off. He stood there, no idea of what to do. He had two dollars on him, not enough for a cab. He could go back to the lot and tell Jeff what happened, but he knew how that would play out. It would be his word against Junior’s. And Junior would probably tell Jeff that the reason it took so long to get the morning load done was that Marvin was a slacker after all. What had Jeff said? Junior was a good man. He had worked for Jeff a long time. Complaining was useless.

He started walking, sticking out his thumb whenever he saw a line of cars approach. He thought about the money he was losing too, how he wouldn’t even be able to buy the kids dinner, or breakfast on Christmas morning, not to mention a few modest gifts.  

He made his way slowly toward the gas station, thinking he might get there before Melba and the kids did. He hoped they saved a sandwich for him, but then he realized he would have to give it to the girls.

Most people are busy on Christmas Eve. They are often a bit rushed. Last minute shoppers buying gifts, hurrying home to wrap them, making dinner or meeting friends. It isn’t an ideal time to be hitchhiking along the side of the road. Marvin kept walking but he knew he had at least seven miles to cover and maybe more. His shoes, like his spirits, were nearly worn out.

He got lucky enough to pick up one ride, which got him closer to his family. When he got out of the car, he stopped to rest. He used half of his money to buy a bottle of water. He was parched, but even so, he felt guilty. As darkness took hold, Christmas lights lit the stores and shops, their occupants trying to make their getaway. Off in the distance, Marvin could see the houses too with Christmas trees in the window, colorful lights twinkling, a happiness he could barely remember.

He got to the station just after 6:30. When he didn’t see the car right away he got nervous. He never said it, but on days like this, and there were many of them, he wondered if he would find his rendezvous spot empty, with maybe a note from Melba stating the obvious. “I can’t take it anymore.”

He walked past the gas pumps around to the side of the convenience store building. What he saw startled him. Melba and the girls were leaning against the Buick talking to a familiar figure, a man whose back was to him. It was Jeff. Then he saw the old man with the white hair. The girls squealed again when they saw their father. Jeff turned and smiled broadly. “You’re not an easy man to find,” he said. “I had to get lucky. I happened to see your ’93 LeSabre parked here. Three girls, sitting on the hood. Figured it was yours.”  He reached into his pocket. “I owe you some money.” He handed Marvin five twenties. “I know what happened today. It wasn’t the first time.  But it was the last time.”

“I’m sorry, Jeff. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to cost a man his job. Not easy being out of work.”

“Junior cost himself a job,” Jeff said. He pointed to the white-haired man. “This is my father. Just arrived this morning for a visit from Mexico. He told me what happened today. Anyway, now I have an opening. You interested?”

Marvin looked at Melba. A job paying ten dollars an hour wouldn’t be enough for them to move into an apartment. They could eat, buy gas and maybe afford a few things the girls needed.

Jeff sensed what they were thinking. “Look, I watched you work and so did my father. Hard to find guys like you. I’ll pay you twelve an hour, on the books, more later if this works out. And you and your family can stay in a cottage I have. You probably saw it at the nursery. It’s not much, but it’s furnished with two bedrooms a bath, living room and a kitchen.”

Melba smiled. She nodded to her husband. “We’ll take it Jeff. Thanks,” Marvin said. Melba reached up and kissed Jeff on the cheek.

The big man smiled. “I had a nice long conversation with your wife while we waited for you to stop barhopping,” Jeff said, winking at the girls. She vouched for you. Anyway, it’s Christmas, so here you go.” He handed Marvin the keys to the cottage.

It wasn’t until the Jackson’s arrived at the nursery that Marvin remembered seeing the cottage. He had been too busy to pay attention to his surroundings. The front door of the cottage had a wreath on it, just like the ones he made. When they opened the front door there was another surprise, a Fraser fir adorned with lights. It was the tree Marvin saw at the tree lot. Now it was standing in the tiny living room. There were wrapped presents under the tree, too, five of them.

“How did Santa know where we would be?” Angela asked. 

Carlie knelt down and hugged her little sister. “He just does Angela. Santa knows everything.”

Marvin smiled. “Santa has a lot of helpers too.”