The Christmas Pony by Melody Carlson

Lucy thinks Miriam is beautiful,” George said. “Anyone can see that just to look at her.”
    â€œTo look at whom?” Veronica asked.
    â€œMiriam, of course.” George chuckled. “Wouldn’t you agree that she’s a beautiful woman?”
    â€œOh, I wouldn’t—”
    â€œI was talking to Veronica.” George cut Mama off. “You consider yourself an expert on beauty, Veronica. Look at Miriam’s fine skin, those topaz blue eyes, her straight nose and—”
    â€œThat’s enough,” Mama said in a voice that Lucy didn’t recognize. Was she mad, or embarrassed, or something else? “If you will excuse me, I would like to—”
    â€œI’m sorry, Miriam,” George said gently. “I didn’t mean to offend you. But you were so complimentary to Veronica, it seemed only right that—”
    â€œNo apology needed,” Mama said crisply. “Now if you will excuse me, I need to tend to some things in the kitchen for breakfast.”
    â€œYes, we should all call it a night,” George said. There was the sound of movement, and Lucy scampered like a mouse back to her room, leaping into her bed and pulling the covers up to her chin, worried that Mama might check on her. But after a bit, once her breathing evened out, Lucy heard talking again. This time it came from the kitchen and was only the sound of George and Mama’s voices. Once again, Lucy tiptoed out to listen.
    â€œI really am sorry,” George was saying. “I know I made you uncomfortable, and that wasn’t my goal at all.”
    â€œNever mind,” Mama told him.
    â€œI only wanted to put Veronica in her place,” he said. “She sets such high stock on appearances, and she spends so much time worrying about her own. Yet you go about your business, you take care of everyone and everything, and in my opinion you are much more beautiful than Veronica. Not in a painted flashy way, of course, but in a lovely womanly way. I just hope you don’t mind me saying so.”
    â€œThank you, George.” Mama’s voice sounded stiff as the stove door clanked closed.
    â€œI can tell I’ve offended you now.”
    â€œNo . . . I’m not offended. Just uncomfortable.”
    â€œI suppose I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth again. Sometimes that got me into trouble at law school. On the otherhand, I think a good lawyer knows how to speak his mind, even if no one else wants to hear the truth.”
    â€œI suppose the truth . . . like beauty . . . can be in the eye of the beholder.”
    He chuckled.
    â€œNow, really, George, if you will excuse me, it’s getting late.”
    â€œI will excuse you only if you promise that you’ll forgive me for offending you.”
    â€œYou did not offend me.”
    The kitchen was quiet for what felt like several minutes.
    â€œGood night, George.” Mama’s voice sounded just a tiny bit more gentle, and now her footsteps were coming Lucy’s way.
    â€œGood night, Miriam,” George called. Lucy was already making a beeline for her bed again. This time she stayed put. But what she heard in the kitchen did get her mind to wondering. Now that she knew she wasn’t getting a pony for Christmas, maybe she should consider praying for something else—like a daddy!

9

    A fter lunch on Friday, George invited Lucy to take a ride in his car, but once she was inside, he told her his real purpose. “Your house needs a Christmas tree,” he said as the car took off over the snowy road. “You and I are going to find the perfect one.”
    As they drove, they talked. Mostly it seemed that George wanted to know more about Mama, and since Lucy thought she knew why he wanted to know more, she was happy to oblige him. Unfortunately, his questions only revealed that she did not know as much about her mother as she thought she did. Oh, she knew that Mama liked