[Critique Group 2] short story for Nov. 21 critique, 962 words

[Alice Massa]

NOTE:  In my holiday book (DBC 08305), on my WORDWALK blog, and on the 
WPL, I have shared the first Wreatha Natale story some time ago; now, I 
just wrote the second Wreatha Natale story of 962 words.

*The Christmas Poet:*

**

*A Wreatha Natale Holiday Story, #2*

by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

Spanning ten city blocks and maintaining its status as the third largest 
rail terminal in the United States, Chicago's Union Station was a 
whirlwind of noise and activity on December 17.Sitting quietly in the 
midst of the hubbub were retired teacher Wreatha Natale and her guide 
dog Wiggles.Douglas Fir--the man, not the tree--was kind to have taken 
the time to accompany her to this waiting area."One half hour, and we 
will be back on the train," she whispered to her Black Lab/Golden 
Retriever.Wiggles seemed eager for the short train ride home to Milwaukee.

As Wreatha took out a braille volume from her backpack, she realized 
that the man sitting next to her arose and walked away.Within a few 
seconds, someone else--much smaller--quickly occupied the empty spot.The 
sweet and gentle voice promptly began:"I hope you don't mind my joining 
you and your guide dog.I have been watching the two of you, and I want 
to give you something."When the rapid delivery of words stopped, Wreatha 
felt something atop her hands:a piece of paper had been rolled up and 
tied with a thin satin ribbon.

"Since you recognized my guide dog, you must understand that I do not 
read print:I read braille," Ms. Natale explained.

"Oh, yes, but do you have a computer that converts print into speech or 
braille?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Good.Then, you can read my gift to you--a Christmas poem--when you 
arrive home.Each holiday season, I write Christmas poems and give them 
as gifts here at Union Station and other places.I want you to have this 
one.You will read it when you arrive home, won't you?"

"Yes, dear, I promise I will read your poem.Thank you so much.I love 
poetry.Are you a student?"

"No, my voice sounds a bit younger than I am.I am twenty.May I help you 
to your train when it arrives?"

"Do you work at Union Station?"Of course, the young woman's answer was 
negative: she just wanted to help Ms. Natale and her Leader 
Dog.Conversing with someone would pass the time more quickly for both 
individuals, but Wreatha determined that her new friend was not awaiting 
a train or any person.The young lady was merely at Union Station to give 
her poems to reluctant recipients, most of whom were not as fond of 
poetry as was her current recipient.

Since the young woman could not be urged to read aloud the poem to 
Wreatha Natale, due to the inappropriate atmosphere:reading the poem in 
a house with a Christmas tree was mandatory.Waiting to read the verses 
would, indeed, heighten the anticipation and wonder--Christmas wonder.

As the minutes of conversations lengthened, Ms.Natale did introduce 
herself and Wiggles; however, the young poet was respectful and knew not 
to disturb a guide dog in harness.Then, the poet shared that she had 
known a fellow high school student who was blind.Eventually, she 
revealed that she had been in a foster home until she turned eighteen.

"I appreciated my foster parents; they were well-meaning people, but I 
never grew to love them.I had contentment, safety, lodging, but not a 
home.For a long while, I knew I would leave when I turned eighteen; and 
I knew that they would not dissuade me.They did not even try.For two 
years, I have been trying to move on, make something of my life."

Finally, Wreatha had to ask the young girl her name.Her meager response 
was:"I am The Christmas Poet."Despite a little prodding for a more 
conventional name--at least a first name--none was mentioned.

"I have no idea who my parents are, what color they were.I do not know 
if they were together when I was born, nor if they liked poetry.I know 
nothing about them.I do not know who gave me my earlier name, so now I 
just go by the moniker 'The Christmas Poet' no matter what the season of 
the year is because I keep Christmas in my heart all through the 
year.Christmas is such a family time, warm and loving time:I try to hold 
onto it all through the twelve months of the year.I believe that through 
Christmas, I will find my way in life."

Ms. Natale prided herself in being able to detect people her were not 
genuine:this young woman exuded only a delicate, fragile honesty.What 
would Douglas think of this young poet?

Checking her raised-dot watch, Ms. Natale said:"My train should be here 
any minute.I will return here for an appointment with Mr. Fir on 
December 23.I should arrive at 10:25 that morning.Can you meet me here?I 
would like for you to come with me to meet my ... friend, Mr. Fir.We are 
going to lunch--my favorite, high tea.I want you to join us.Will you?"

For a long minute, The Christmas Poet said nothing.At last, she 
smiled:"I will be here at ten o'clock on December 23:I like to be early."

Ms. Natale reached for her backpack and put the braille volume inside; 
then, she pulled out a copy of her print manuscript.Handing the red 
folder to The Christmas Poet, Ms. Natale told her new friend:"Here is my 
little gift for you.Please read it before you meet me on the 23rd."

The Christmas Poet was already silently reading the title page, but had 
to repeat the words aloud:"The Christmas Poet:A wreath of Holiday 
Verses, by Wreatha Natale."

number of words:962

November 12, 2019, Tuesday

  Looking forward to our gathering on the 21st!

Alice and Willow



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