No Home Alone | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: No Home Alone | Previous Challenge Entry
By Zoe A. Onah
11/24/08
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“Good-night Molly. Have a good one, matey” one of Molly’s colleagues cheered.
“Good-night,” Molly’s reply was less cheery.
Christmas Eve. Everyone had left the office now. Except Molly and the cleaners who were now coming in. They too seemed to be in a hurry to get their job done.
It was dark outside. Molly looked at the time. Nearly four in the afternoon. Usually, staff were allowed to leave anytime after two on Christmas Eve. Sharp two, it had been a mass exodus out of the building. Everyone had seemed excited. Except Molly.
Earlier, everyone had been talking about what they would be doing for Christmas. Christmas present lists, wine lists, in-law arguments, the best way to cook turkey were some of the endless office chatter. Molly wandered how much work her colleagues had actually done that day.
Molly had not contributed to the Christmas rant. Christmas did not mean much to her. Had once. But that was years ago. Before….
“Staying late?” the cleaner asked.
“I am not in any rush to go home, really,” Molly said without looking up.
“Oh?”
“Well, I am spending Christmas on my own. Mine is a simple one I guess,” Molly offered lamely.
“Where do you live, love? You can join us for church service in the morning. We’ll be having a short reception afterwards too. Would be nice to see you if you can. What’s your name?”
“Molly. Thanks but I don’t do church.”
“Don’t matter. What else would you be doing otherwise? Hey it’s Christmas. Come on,” the cleaner attempted.
“Thanks but no thanks”
The cleaner flicked a spot on the desk next to Molly’s with a feather duster. Molly stared at the spreadsheet on her monitor.
“All this computer stuff. Don’t understand it,” the cleaner was at it again. She was now emptying Molly’s bin.
“My husband left me on Christmas day. For another woman. I don’t like Christmases,” Molly said at last, finally looking up.
“Sorry to hear.”
“So am I. Don’t have any friends….or family. He was my world. Seven years ago and it still feels like yesterday.”
“You gotta move on. Make new friends…”
“Don’t need friends. You only get hurt anyway.”
“Well if you change your mind, here is the flyer for tomorrow’s service and reception. Merry Christmas.”
The cleaner had moved on to the next row of desks now. Molly put the flyer in her bag without looking at it. She looked out of the window. Everyone was buzzing around outside with big shopping bags. She considered going home. She was not having much joy with the figures in her spreadsheet anyway.
An hour later, Molly was sitting in front of the fire in her flat. On her journey home, she had not stopped thinking of the conversation with the cleaner. She had not even asked the cleaner’s name.
Molly looked at the Christmas card on the mantle piece. Except for this only card, there was not a hint of anything Christmas in her flat. The card had been from her husband. On their last Christmas seven years ago before he broke the news he was leaving her. She brought it out every year.
She looked at the lovely words he had written. Not a hint that he had been even considering leaving her. She tore the card in two and threw it in the fire. The cleaner was right. It was time to move on, perhaps make new friends too. It was Christmas after all.
She reached for her handbag. “St Michaels Church,” the flyer read. “Come join us in the spirit of Christmas. Experience the love of Jesus. Witness the true meaning of Christmas.”
Nine the next morning, Molly was at the door of the old church. The cleaner was already there welcoming people. She smiled when she saw Molly.
“Glad you made it, Molly” the cleaner said.
“Me too,”
“Merry Christmas”
“Merry Christmas. Sorry I never asked your name.”
“Faith.”
“An interesting name.”
“Yes my father bolted once my mother discovered she was pregnant with me,” Faith chuckled. “Mum had me on Christmas day. Her faith in God kept her through the lonely months of having an illegitimate child in the fifties. Mum died when I was a young girl but she left me a legacy of faith and hope. ”
Molly wiped a tear.
“Give Jesus a home in your heart; you’ll find joy, I promise. Invite Him home this Christmas.”
“I will,” Molly promised as she scurried into the church.

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