Just after Thanksgiving one year and before the start of Advent, I paid a visit to a family that was living in poverty on the outskirts of town. At that time my son, Emile, was only nine years old and too young to have me away from home all the time making my living by touring around the country. So I had hung up my touring guitar and established my own remodeling business. I’d been called to the home of this couple and their two children, to make some badly needed repairs.
The boy, Joey, was about nine, the same age as my own son, and he was smart and bright-eyed and well-mannered. His sister Jesse was a year or so younger, with a sweet, shy smile. Their mother, Annie, got around in a wheelchair, having had both of her legs amputated. She was a brave woman and she battled with fierce courage and determination to keep her family together and to make sure her children were taken care of. Her husband wasn’t much help to her. Clayton suffered from delusions, and over the course of the days that I was there working, I would periodically find that he had gone out in the back yard to stumble around muttering and cursing, and struggling to contain the anger and confusion that always threatened to overwhelm him.
In the front room of this crumbling, dilapidated hovel they lived in was a wobbly table with a small, defiant Christmas tree on it, and beneath the tree was a cardboard nativity scene.
I felt helpless to do anything to improve their situation. And in the few days I spent working on the house, I experienced a growing admiration for these four brave souls who, in the midst of such dire circumstances, went right on about the living of their daily lives. At night the kids were sharing a pad on the floor to sleep on, so I located a couple of mattresses and I was going to build bed frames and buy some linens and pillows. When I called to arrange a time to bring the beds and stuff out there to them, Clayton answered the phone and I could tell he was coming apart. He said Annie had had some kind of a seizure, and an ambulance had just taken her away and he didn’t know what he was going to do and maybe he should just get his gun. I hung up and dialed 911.
Sometime later I was able to learn that Joey and Jesse went out west to live with an aunt. I don’t know what became of Annie and Clayton. I wrote this song and I pray for them. Sometimes that’s all you can do.
How Will I Celebrate This Christmas?
words and music © Garrison Doles
from his CD Songmaker’s Christmas
Joey made a deal with baby Jesus
The he closed his eyes and he fell asleep
Now every time I see that boy I think about that prayer
I lay me down the Lord my soul to keep
Little sister Jesse curled up next to him
On a dirty mattress on the floor
She dreams about the wise men traveling through the night
Bearing gifts and following a star
And I wonder
How will I celebrate this Christmas?
And I wonder
What will it mean for me and you?
He said I want you to look out for each other
We have this yet to do
Annie made a deal with Mother Mary
Of the discount store nativity
And waiting for the ambulance a prayer upon her lips
Protect these little ones for me
Clayton’s in the back yard and he’s lost as he can be
And his eyes are wild and he’s talkin' about a gun
He says everybody’s gonna meet Jesus and he’s really scaring me
Have to call the nine one one
And I wonder
How will I celebrate this Christmas?
And I wonder
What will it mean for me and you?
Jesus said I want you to look out for each other
We have this yet to do
He said I want you to look out for each other
We have this yet to do
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