Christmas Spirit Week


Christmas Spirit Week


Christmas Spirit Week

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“Are you here for the Christmas Spirit week?” Mrs. Morrissey asked as I came in.

I nodded and took a seat at the back of the room.

“Who wants to be first?” she said, looking around. A girl with blond hair stood up. She was about my height and had freckles across her nose. She looked like she would be a fun person to hang out with.

“Why did you want to be first?” Mrs. Morrissey asked her.

“Well, it’s my turn to give the devotion and I was hoping you could help me.” The girl gave me a wink and then turned to Mrs. Morrissey.

“I can’t help you with the devotional, but I have a question for you,” the girl said. “What is the most important part of Christmas Spirit week?”

Mrs. Morrissey thought about it for a second.

“The spirit!” she shouted as loud as she could.

Everyone cheered. Mrs. Morrissey smiled and clapped her hands together.

“Okay, since no one else is volunteering, I guess we’ll start off with you,” she said to the girl with freckles.

“It’s your turn now,” the teacher said. She held up a piece of paper that had my name on it. The girl with freckles grabbed it.

“My name is Holly.” She stood up and faced the class.

“This is my third year in this class and this is my first time giving a devotional. I’ve been working on a story to tell you but I’m not sure I have enough material to fill the whole fifteen minutes. So I thought maybe you could help me with the story.” The class looked at each other expectantly. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“Well,” one girl said, “how long has it been since you graduated high school?”

“Oh, wow, that’s hard to remember,” Holly said. “I think it was close to twenty years ago. Maybe more.” Everyone laughed.

“Twenty years ago!” Mrs. Morrissey said, “That’s just crazy talk! Twenty years old? That means you were like ten when I started here. And that would make me fifty-seven!” She walked around the room shaking her head and making faces.

“Fifty-seven! You know, if you had never graduated, then I could be your mother. Can you imagine?” Mrs. Morrissey turned back to Holly and cleared her throat.

“Uh, so what does a ten-year-old girl have to do with giving a devotion?” Mrs. Morrissey asked.

“Well,” Holly said, “in my story, I am going to talk about a little girl who is ten and about to have Christmas Spirit week. She wants to make sure she gives as good as she gets but she also doesn’t want to seem too childish. Do you have any ideas?”

Mrs. Morrissey was silent for a second then burst out laughing. “Of course I have ideas!” she said. “I’ll just give you some of mine. First of all, if your story is about Christmas Spirit week, I would like it to take place in a school at Christmas time.

Maybe it would be a public school or a private school.” Holly nodded. “Next, the main character should be an eleven-year-old girl. This way you can have Christmas Spirit week two weeks before you turn twelve so that you really get to show off how grown up you are.”

The class was nodding in agreement, “Yes, yes, that sounds great,” one boy shouted.

“Okay then,” Mrs. Morrissey continued, “the girl’s name should be… Holly!” Everyone clapped and laughed.

“Great,” Holly said, “thank you.” She turned to the teacher, “So what do you think I need to work on? How much material do I need to write?”

“Just a few pages. I’m sure you can come up with a lot more than that.” Holly smiled.

“I have faith in you,” Holly said to the class and then turned back to the teacher. “Can I be excused?”

Mrs. Morrissey waved her hand. “Of course. It was nice meeting you, Holly. Good luck with your devotion.” Holly nodded and left the room.

“Do you want to try next?” Mrs. Morrissey asked me.

“Oh no, that’s okay,” I said.

“Well, it looks like you have been here long enough to know most of my rules,” she said with a smile. “You’re in the right class. You’re supposed to give a devotional.”

I didn’t say anything for a second and then I felt a little sick. “Umm… Mrs. Morrissey, maybe you shouldn’t give a devotional today. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to write any kind of story today.”

“What do you mean, you don’t have the material? We’ve only had two classes and I’m already giving a test. Are you telling me I can’t do both? It’s Christmas time—of course, I have the material!” She looked around at the rest of the class. “Who else would have some ideas?” The room was silent. Then Mrs. Morrissey turned back to me.

“How about we do what we did in the first class. I’ll give you five minutes, and if you can’t think of something by then, I’ll let someone else give a devotional and you can try again another day.” I nodded and she clapped her hands.

“Okay, get to work! We only have one minute until your five minutes are up!”

I sat down at my desk and started writing. I was trying not to panic as I thought back over the first few months of the year. I remembered when everyone was talking about Holly’s devotionals and I also remembered the first few times I heard her give a devotional. I took a deep breath and started to write.

The bell rang before I knew it. Everyone in the class had stopped listening. Mrs. Morrissey came over and checked my paper. She nodded and then asked for the book. The next person to go up was Mr. Ryan. He walked across the room to the teacher’s desk.

I looked back at my page and shook my head. It was blank. I didn’t know where to go from here. The bell rang again and Mrs. Morrissey read our names off of the board. When she got to mine she said, “Okay, Sam, it’s your turn.”

“Oh no,” I groaned, “I don’t have anything either.”

Mrs. Morrissey just smiled and handed me the book. “It looks like I’m giving out test after all. Just write whatever comes into your mind.”

I nodded and started to write. I didn’t want to think about the fact that I had basically written nothing since September, but I pushed those thoughts aside and tried to get to work.

As I wrote my story, my mind kept wandering. It seemed like I had been here forever. I missed being at school with my friends and I hated that this stupid assignment was causing me to stay longer and longer.

The bell rang and I stopped writing. My fingers were getting sore. I looked down and saw that I had written thirty-three pages. I crumpled the paper up and dropped it into the wastebasket. “No!” I cried. “That can’t be right! It has to be shorter than that!”

Mrs. Morrissey just looked at me.

I grabbed the wastebasket and pulled it over. I set it on the teacher’s desk, got up from my seat, and walked over to the book. I opened it up. There were only five pages. I flipped through a few more pages until I found the last one.

I picked it up and looked at it. There was no date or number written on the page. “Oh no!” I moaned. It had to have been over two months ago—maybe even longer.

I put the book back onto the desk and started to walk towards the door. As I passed the teacher’s desk, I looked around at the empty room. No students in the hallway. Just Mrs. Morrissey and myself. I couldn’t help but think, “I bet that would be a great place for some devotions!”

I smiled and turned to look back at her. “What do you say?”

***

As I walked out of the classroom, I saw Mrs. Morrissey staring at me with a big grin on her face. She was shaking her head and waving. I waved back and then went out to the hallway.

“I don’t believe this,” I said aloud as I shook my head.

I made my way back to my locker. As I walked past the front office, the secretary’s voice came from inside. “Sam, come on in and have a seat.”

I opened the door to find Mrs. Morrissey standing behind the desk, looking up at me. She gave me a big smile and then pointed at the chair next to her. “Sit down and we’ll talk about this.”

“What is going on here? Why am I sitting down and why does everyone keep talking about devotions?”

“Now Sam, let’s not be too hasty here. You’re probably wondering why I have you seated in front of the principal’s desk, right?”

I nodded. “Well, yes.”

Mrs. Morrissey smiled again and then took a deep breath. “All right, here’s the thing. A few weeks ago we had the first devotion of the year and, as I remember, it was quite good.”

“Oh, you mean the one that happened in class?”

Mrs. Morrissey just smiled and shook her head.

“Yes, Sam, that one. And you did well, so well, in fact, that it caught the attention of your fellow students.”

“So you’re saying my devotions were talked about around school?”

“More like all over school, Sam. Ever since the first one, everyone has been talking about them. We’ve even had teachers in other classes tell us they heard about the devotion from students in their own classes.”

I stared at her in shock. “You’re kidding me!”

“No, Sam, I’m not kidding. Not even close.”

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “That’s pretty cool.”

She gave me another big smile and a slight nod. “Yes, Sam, that’s really what I’m trying to say.”

“And how did you get the teachers involved?”

“Well, let’s see, where to start? One of my students was in your class last year. I guess she liked your devotionals because she started sharing them with her friends. From there, they spread out and soon almost everyone in school knows about them.”

I sat back in the chair. “Wow, that is so amazing! Why don’t I remember any of this?”

Mrs. Morrissey laughed. “That’s the best part. You didn’t know. Not until recently, that is. I think it’s great, Sam.”

I looked at her. “Are you sure?”

She gave me a smile. “Of course, Sam. I love your devotionals. It makes me happy to think they’re making people smile around here.”

I nodded and gave her a small smile myself. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“So, we had a couple more devotionals in class and then after school. Then one day, when I came by your locker, you had a big smile on your face and I could tell from the way you were talking that it was something really cool.”

“I don’t remember much of that day, but I do remember it being good. I guess I had a big smile too, huh?”

She laughed again. “Very big. And when you told me that it was going to be devotions in your room after school today, I just knew it would happen.”

I thought for a moment. “That must have been you. I saw you in the hallway.”

She smiled. “No, Sam, not me. I think you already figured that out, don’t you?”

I nodded. “But who are you?”

She gave me another big smile. “Why, I’m Mrs. Morrissey, of course. I’m your English teacher. The one you have in every year.”

“You’re my English teacher!”

“Yes, Sam. But you didn’t know that did you? No, I’m the teacher who brings in the devotions. Not because you asked me to, but because I wanted to. I thought it was the neatest idea ever.”

I stared at her. “But what about everyone else?”

She laughed. “Well, that’s where it gets really interesting. I mean, come on, Sam! You’ve got kids sitting in your room every single week, listening to you talk about Jesus and reading His Word.”

“Oh,” I said softly.

Mrs. Morrissey leaned forward. “So, Sam, what do you think about all that? Do you think that God is moving through your devotionals to impact people here in school?”

I looked her straight in the eye and gave her a big grin. “Absolutely. In fact, I believe He’s using you to do that. If anyone can make that happen, it would be you.”

I watched her face as she listened to me talking. I could see how much joy I brought to her and I was sure that same joy was showing on my own face. Then I saw her look down at her hands. She was rubbing them together as though they were cold or something.

“Mrs. Morrissey?”

She turned to me and smiled. “Yes, Sam?”

“Can I call you Mom now?”

She gave me another big smile. “Yes, of course, you can.”

I sat back in my chair and thought for a moment. “Mrs. Morrissey, do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

She just nodded. “Of course not, Sam.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “So, who are you to me? Like, do I know you from somewhere?”

Her eyes grew wide and she leaned forward. “Sam, you don’t remember, but I think we’ve known each other for a long time. Since before you were born. And since before I was even a teacher.”

“A long time ago?”

“Yes,” she replied. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“So, I was there too, then?”

She shook her head. “No, Sam, you weren’t there at the beginning. But, well, we’ll talk about that later.” She smiled. “Do you want to hear another devotion today?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely!”

“Good. Then let’s get started.”

***

Mrs. Morrissey sat down at her desk and turned to the front. I looked around the room and wondered how long I had been sitting in that very spot. How long have I sat here listening to her stories? How long has she been telling them?

I think back to all those years in high school when I would sit in class and read her devotions on my phone. Then I’d take the little paper ones home with me. I didn’t know at first who was writing them, but I figured it out after a while. Mrs. Morrissey. Then she was in my English classes all through college. She was always there.

I was just thinking about the many years I had been hearing her stories when she stood up.

“Okay, everyone! Let’s close our Bibles, please!”

She walked over to the podium and put the Bible back into its stand. “Okay, now that we’re ready, I want you all to turn to Ephesians 4:15.” She opened her Bible and pointed to the passage.

“What’s it say, Sam?” she asked.

“It says: ‘But speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ.’ That’s from the New Living Translation.”

Mrs. Morrissey smiled. “Great job, Sam!”

I smiled back. I was glad that she knew my name. I mean, I felt like I was in class with her, but still, I had no idea what her real name was. It was a relief that I could use her real name in front of the class.

Then Mrs. Morrissey cleared her throat and started the lesson. We read verses 15, 16, 17, 18, and 19 together as I listened intently. Mrs. Morrissey asked a lot of questions and I was happy to answer them.

We were reading about how Jesus Christ had grown up in every way. He was God, but he still grew up like us. His human side and his divine side continued to develop even as he reached adulthood. The more mature he became, the closer he got to being fully human.

In other words, when Jesus was baptized, he became totally human. This was an important step for him because it showed that he was now going to start living out his life as a man—as one of us.

Jesus was born as a baby, but he also had to grow up as a teenager, and then as a young man. Eventually, he had to face adulthood and take on all of the responsibilities that came with it.

He faced all of this by learning from others who were older than him, including his father. Jesus learned many things from his earthly dad—what it was like to be a father and as a man himself.

“Now, here’s where I need you to pay attention,” Mrs. Morrissey said as she leaned toward her Bible and pointed to a specific verse.

“‘He made known to me the mystery of His will, according to His kind intention which He purposed in Him.'”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

She smiled. “You’ll see.”

After that she read several more verses in Ephesians, but I really wasn’t paying attention to them. All I could think about was what she had told me about growing up with her, or maybe about being her, or both.

I mean, who else could she be? She was teaching me in class! But, I didn’t remember meeting her before, so where had we met? Hadn’t she been born around the same time I had?

As soon as class was over, I ran into Mrs. Morrissey’s office and started writing all my questions down. She put me through my paces, quizzing me on all the things she’d told me in class.

“Sam?” she said. “That’s enough for today. Thank you for your help!”

“It’s no problem!” I replied. “I’m glad to help you out.”

We said our goodbyes and I headed back to my car. I thought about stopping by the bookstore again, but I didn’t want to spend too much time there. Mrs. Morrissey would be wondering if I had gone home. I needed to be on my way as soon as possible.

***

I got back in my car and turned it on. I tried to concentrate on driving and not think about the fact that I had just been sitting in a classroom talking with Mrs. Morrissey.

“Okay,” I said to myself as I pulled into the driveway of my house. “Now get some rest.”

I went inside, ate dinner, and went right to bed. When I woke up the next morning, I made sure to go straight to school. I didn’t want to have any more opportunities to talk with Mrs. Morrissey than I already had.

All week I tried to stay busy, so I didn’t have any chance to stop and ask questions. I had to admit, though, that I did keep thinking about the conversation we had had. It was all I could do to try not to think about it.

It wasn’t until Friday afternoon, when I was about to leave school for the day, that I saw her again.

As I walked out of the classroom I realized that I knew where she had been sitting, and I saw a couple of the chairs still there. So, I thought I’d give it another shot.

Maybe if I sat at the same table, she would recognize me and we could start a normal conversation. That was my plan anyway.

I stopped by Mrs. Morrissey’s classroom door and looked around. I didn’t see anyone else sitting at the table I had noticed before.

“Excuse me,” I said to a lady walking toward the door. She didn’t seem to hear me because she continued to walk forward without stopping.

“Excuse me,” I repeated louder this time. “Hey! Excuse me!”

She turned toward me, startled. It was Mrs. Morrissey’s mom, and she looked madder than I had ever seen her.

“What are you doing, Sam?” Mrs. Morrissey’s mom shouted. “You know better than to just come into my classroom like that.”

I thought about arguing, but she was right. I shouldn’t have snuck into Mrs. Morrissey’s classroom. It was disrespectful.

I glanced down and saw that Mrs. Morrissey’s mom was holding a pile of papers and books in her arms. I knew I couldn’t run away from her—she would see me anywhere I went.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Morrissey’s mom,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“You haven’t been here before,” Mrs. Morrissey’s mom said, putting the items on top of the desk in the room.

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve only been here twice before today. I was waiting for Mrs. Morrissey after school. I wanted to ask her something.”

Mrs. Morrissey’s mom took a step closer to me and narrowed her eyes. She still looked pretty upset, though not as bad as she had been when I first spoke to her.

“I didn’t get a chance to do that earlier today,” I added. “But now I have some questions I need to ask. Would you mind answering them?”

Her eyes widened. “Really, Sam? What did you want to know about?”

I hesitated a moment, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. I didn’t think anyone could hear us through the closed door, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

“Do you have any books or other teaching materials about demons and magic?” I asked.

She didn’t answer right away, but I heard her sigh as she turned around.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go back into the classroom.”

I followed her through the door, and she headed toward the table where Mrs. Morrissey was sitting. I felt like an idiot. Now everyone would see that I’d gone into her classroom, and I hadn’t even gotten to speak to her at all.

“Where are we going?” I asked her.

She stopped walking and turned to look at me.

“We’re going to talk about why you were in my classroom,” Mrs. Morrissey’s mom answered.

I wasn’t sure I liked that, but then again, I didn’t have anything to hide. It was my choice to ask Mrs. Morrissey some questions, so I figured it should be okay for her to talk to me about why I had snuck in.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She sighed again. “You’re a friend of Sarah, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

“Is that what this is about?” she asked, shaking her head. “Well, Sam, you can’t go around asking questions about something as serious as that here. What if I told someone? Would you believe me?”

I thought about how stupid that sounded. “Of course, I would, Mrs. Morrissey’s mom.”

“Good,” she said. She put the pile of things down on top of another table, grabbed a couple books from the stack, and started to walk out of the room.

I reached for one of them. “I could use this one,” I said.

“Sam, don’t,” Mrs. Morrissey’s mom replied.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I assured her.

She hesitated for a minute, then turned back to face me. “Very well. You can borrow that book.”

I thanked her, and then followed her through the door. She took me into Mrs. Morrissey’s room, where she left me by the door.

“Now you wait here,” she said, shutting the door behind herself.

I nodded, still trying to decide what she meant when she’d said Sarah was a friend of mine.

I glanced around at the shelves of books and the desks stacked high with papers and books. It looked like a lot of fun being Mrs. Morrissey’s assistant, but there was nothing more I wanted to do than ask her some questions.

“What are you doing?” a girl’s voice asked.

I looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway. She seemed a little irritated like she had been caught doing something she didn’t want to be caught doing.

I raised my hands in front of me, not sure what else I was supposed to do. “Hi, Sarah,” I said.

She rolled her eyes and walked past me, heading toward Mrs. Morrissey.

“What are you doing here?” Mrs. Morrissey asked her.

“I came to check on him,” Sarah replied. “Sam went into your classroom without permission, so I thought he could use a little help. Is that okay with you?”

Mrs. Morrissey shook her head. “No, Sarah. That is not okay.”

Sarah frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded.

Mrs. Morrissey sighed, and I heard her sigh again as she headed back out of the room.

“Are you okay?” I asked Sarah, walking over to her.

“Of course, I’m not okay!” she replied.

“What happened?” I asked her.

Sarah shrugged and sat down at one of the desks, looking away from me.

“Where were you before that?” I asked her. “I mean, where have you been?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sarah replied.

“Is it because of what happened earlier?” I asked.

She nodded but didn’t say anything else.

“Will you tell me what’s going on? Please?” I asked.

She stared down at her hands.

“You’re my friend,” I continued. “I don’t want you to be mad at me for some reason. It wasn’t my fault. You can talk to me about whatever you want.”

“I know you don’t want me to be mad at you,” she said quietly, “but I’m already pretty angry with myself.”

“Angry at yourself? Why?”

“I… I couldn’t do it,” she mumbled, still staring down at her hands. “It was supposed to happen this morning, and I didn’t have the guts.”

She turned her head to look at me, and I could see tears forming in her eyes.

“Hey, hey,” I said, grabbing her hand and holding it tight. “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

Sarah sniffled once and shook her head, pushing away my hand. She got up from her desk, walked to the door, and left.

I went over to the other desk where I’d seen Mrs. Morrissey put her pile of papers, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

It would be cool if I could help Sarah. I just didn’t know how. I wanted to make her feel better, but I wasn’t sure what to say or do.

I started reading the book I had taken from Mrs. Morrissey’s room. It wasn’t much to read, just some old letters and notes. It seemed like it might be fun, though. The only problem was, I didn’t know what I should be looking for.

I turned the page, hoping it would tell me something more about the people who had written these letters, but there was nothing new on the page.

I decided to wait until Mrs. Morrissey came back to look for clues, but the minutes passed and she didn’t return. When the bell rang for the end of the lunch period, I grabbed my book, stood up, and headed out the door.

Mrs. Morrissey was waiting for me by the stairs when I stepped outside. She had her arm wrapped around one of the boys, but as soon as I got close enough, she released him and stepped away from him.

“Thank you,” she said, shaking my hand. “For your help earlier.”

“My pleasure,” I replied.

She nodded toward the boy. “Sam, this is Lucas. He’s in Mr. Pierce’s class with Sam. They’re both friends of mine, so I asked them to help me with my classroom.”

“Hey!” Sam shouted.

Lucas looked at me like he didn’t know what to do next.

“He’s new here,” I told him.

“I guess I shouldn’t have been snooping around,” Lucas said quickly.

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied.

I thought Mrs. Morrissey would introduce him to his new class after lunch, but he went over and sat down at a desk near the back of the room.

“Well, I suppose we should get started,” she said. “Where were we?”

We hadn’t really gotten that far. I mean, the book wasn’t all that long, so it didn’t take very long for Mrs. Morrissey and Lucas to figure out what was going on. It didn’t help that the kid had a knack for finding things that no one else could.

The other kids came over as they finished their lunches and started asking me questions about the book. I tried to tell them what I knew, but most of what they wanted to know wasn’t in the book.

Mrs. Morrissey helped me answer some of those questions, but I still couldn’t say much without telling them the whole story.

“It’s kind of funny, really,” she said. “The boy has the uncanny ability to find things when they’re missing.”

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

“I mean, he was in your class, right? How come he couldn’t find this book earlier?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.”

She nodded, her eyes still focused on the page as she read.

“Have a great afternoon,” I told her.

“Oh, don’t worry about Lucas and Sam,” she said. “They can take care of themselves.”

The End

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