Jenny

Christmas was fast approaching. And, for a welcome change, the weather was perfect: bitingly cold with a wintry mix of ice and snow, turning mostly to snow by the end of Christmas Eve. Weather in the windy state of Oklahoma was always unpredictable. It could be seventy degrees one day and twenty the next. On some days, the winds would curl in from the south producing a balmy, tropical atmosphere only to have the winds shift from the north, driving in the harsh cold winds from the north. Dressing in several layers was the key to survival in this state. But, this Christmas Eve, the weather cooperated with her wish. Jenny loved the snow, especially since she was on winter break from school. She and her four younger brothers had plenty of opportunities to make snowmen, build forts, make angels on the ground, and drink plenty of steamy, hot chocolate. Everything seemed in place. Her father and brothers had hand-selected the perfect eight-foot tall, Douglas fir tree from a farm in the country earlier in the week. The family had spent hours decorating the tree with strings of white, blinking lights and dotting it with huge, shiny, red balls hanging with gold threads from the branches. Scads of beautifully decorated presents were stacked in uneven patterns covering the homemade Christmas tree skirt while the aroma of oven-cooked, honeyed ham and newly baked dill bread filled every crevice of the house. This would be a perfect evening offering all the ingredients for a memorable holiday. Family and relatives gathered in the kitchen while Jenny warmed herself at the glowing fire in the huge, white-stoned fireplace in the living room. Christmas Eve! The time of excitement for all children. The best time of the entire year! Or, should be, anyway. But, not for Jenny. At least, not this year. Something was missing and it bothered Jenny that she couldn’t quite put her finger on the source of her unrest. Was it something? Or, someone? And, why did she feel so burdened with unsolicited feelings such as anger, guilt, and sadness. She was only eleven years old, but those small shoulders of hers seemed to carry a burden large enough to weigh down an ox. Based on the last five years, Jenny knew she had every reason in the world to anticipate a great holiday this year. The last few Christmases had been vastly different than the first six she had spent with her birth mother, Natasha. So, why was she so sad? What was so wrong? Jenny pondered these things while sitting cross-legged on the brown, billowy loveseat in the living room, staring at the tree. Her adoptive parents, Cathey and Randy Abbott, knew something was troubling Jenny, and when they asked her if she was feeling ill, she repeatedly told them that everything was just fine. But, they knew better. Especially Cathey, who had always paid close attention to Jenny’s facial expressions. To her, Jenny’s face was an open book and would, more often than not, betray her words. So, why, why, why was she so down this Christmas Eve? She was grateful to be safe, secure, and surrounded by loved ones who adored her and her siblings. They had continuous electricity and warmth, no strange people banging at their door in the middle of the night, and their house was filled with laughter and affection. And, food? They had such a variety of prepared foods. And, not only food for the holidays, but food year round! When she’d lived with Natasha, Jenny had dreaded listening to her siblings’ growling stomaches. And, her own. But, the Abbott family ate like royalty, complete with chicken casseroles, hamburger dishes, occasional steaks, salads, crackers and cheese, and any flavor of jello they wanted. They could eat anytime, except before dinner, and could have as much as they wanted. She had the perfect life. At eleven years of age, Jenny had read books depicting families who lived comfortable and happy lives. She called them book families. Never in her earlier years would she have ever hoped to have been part of a book family! And, now she and her brothers were! Pondering what had stolen her joy that night, Jenny eyes began to water. It hit her like a frozen snowball stinging her face. Not everyone would be here for Christmas. Randy and Cathey’s extended family had brought presents for the children and side dishes for their meal, but one person would be missing this year – not only from this family occasion, but from Jenny’s life itself, or so it seemed. Natasha, her birth mother - her first mother – had disappeared. Natasha was gone. Again.