Everybody Wants a Christmas Miracle

Periwinkle Chronicles, tales of the citizens of Periwinkle [because all the other colors were already taken] County: EVERTBODY WANTS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

Most people shop for clothes or toys before Christmas. Marcella Corella bought a new car.

She took her father, Jubillo Corella, with her and went to Herschel Feinberg’s “Cars The Way They Ought to Be Emporium.” Herschel has been stockpiling out-of-print cars for years—Studebaker, Packard, Nash, Desoto, Hudson—cars that were built the right way, meaning they were built long ago, since anything manufactured a long time ago, according to old people, which Herschel is, is better than anything manufactured more recently. Reluctantly and sorrowfully, he has now begun to store new Mercurys, Pontiacs, Oldsmobiles, and Plymouths. He has lots of brand new old cars for sale.

Since she was 2 years old, which was 48 years ago, Marcella has wanted a Hudson but felt it was too much car for her, so she settled for Hondas, since they also start with “H,” and with gasoline. Since she hit 50, though, [years, not mph; she hits 50 mph before she’s out of the driveway] she has decided she needs a grown-up car. She really wanted that Hudson, the same type her grandmother used to drive in stock-car races when she was a teen, but her father favored a Plymouth, since Herschel won’t sell you a car unless you can justify your choice historically.

“I know it’s not quite as grown-up,” he said, “but think of the historical implications. Think of Plymouth Rock.”

“Yes,” she countered, “but think of Hudson Bay and the importance of the fur trade.”

Herschel was satisfied with her historical justification and sold her the Hudson, a sparkling green Hornet. What with Herschel calling in all the mechanics to help him decide whether the settling of Plymouth Rock or the Hudson Bay fur trade had been more important to the development of American literature, especially when Yogi “Bear” Ypsilanti, the new Mercury mechanic, stuck the necessity of Desoto’s discoveries into the discussion, since he’s irritated because he always has to argue the issue of the planet Mercury v. the fluid mercury, the transaction took four hours. All this time, Marcella’s mother, Florella, and her friend, Antonina Giuliani, and her other friend, Rudolpho Randino, were waiting anxiously to see what car she came back with, so they would know which Christmas decorations to use, since Christmas decs and car colors need to complement each other, or possibly compliment each other, according to Florella.

Marcella had driven half-way into the garage when her mother waved her down.

“Stop!” she cried. “We have to see this color in sunlight to determine whether it’s really green, if we can honestly call it The Green Hornet, and if we should use the dried or stewed persimmon balls on the tree.”

So Marcella stopped the car where it was and got out to help Florella and Antonina and Rudolpho admire it. Just then Mrs. Ipsophacto from next door came out. She had not seen Marcella for a long time and held out her arms for a hug. Marcella ran to her, forgetting that the garage door opener was in her pocket. As they hugged, the opener got compressed between them, and the big heavy garage door began to come down on Marcella’s brand new old car.

“Stop it!” cried Rudolpho. “Stop the garage door!”

He ran to it and tried to push it back up but it kept descending.

“It doesn’t have one of those automatic stoppers,” screamed Marcella.

“Jump into it and back it out further,” shouted Jubillo, Marcella’s father.

“I can’t,” said Marcella, who is an English teacher. “If it’s distance, the word is ‘farther,’ so it would be wrong to back it out ‘further.’”

“Help Rudolpho push the door up,” yelled Antonina.

“I can’t,” said Mrs. Ipsophacto. “I hate his mother. She once insulted my baked persimmon brie.”

But suddenly the door stopped dead.

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” shouted Florella.

“It’s a sign from God,” said Jubillo. “She prefers Hudsons over Plymouths after all.”

“I don’t think the smashed chipmunk in the track thinks it’s a miracle or a sign from God, either one,” observed Antonina.


[“Christ in Winter,” reflections on faith for people in the winter of their years, can be found at http://christinwinter.blogspot.com/]