Chapter 6
"The Mistletoe Christmas Festival is just one of the many Christmas traditions this town has. As you might expect because of the town name."
Grace sat in a chair in her Aunt Vivian's dining room, a blanket over her lap, knitting in her hands.
Her aunt sat across from her at the table, working on one of her intricate and exceptionally beautiful gingerbread houses. Just watching her aunt work made Grace feel relaxed and happy.
Soft Christmas music played from the speaker beside the window, and the occasional car drove down the street in front of the window, the headlights flashing.
The house smelled like cinnamon and yeast bread, and in the soft glow of the light on the coffee table, Grace could almost believe that they were in another world entirely.
The catastrophe of her last concert, the subsequent panic attacks, and fear that she might never perform again seemed like distant memories.
"I'd love to hear about them," she said, when Aunt Vivian didn't say anything more.
"Well, there's the Secret Saint. Our town is kind of famous for it."
"Secret Saint?" she asked.
"It's like a Secret Santa, only I suppose someone, I don't know who, coined the term, Secret Saint rather than saying Santa, because—and I'm just guessing here—a lot of times this time of year we get our attention off of what we're really celebrating and end up celebrating with the world.
We even lie to our children and tell them that there's such a thing as Santa Claus, and make Christmas all about him and bringing toys and Rudolph and the North Pole.
Sometimes we don't even bother to tell them the story of Jesus.
Or, it takes second place to all the supposedly wonderful things that Santa does.
Jesus can seem kind of boring after Santa. "
Grace didn't say anything. She hadn't been brought up to believe in Santa Claus, and she didn't really understand why parents would lie to their kids that way. She was glad her parents hadn't, but she supposed it was a cute little story.
"I guess I don't really see anything wrong with Santa Claus, but I do agree that sometimes it feels like Christmas has been commercialized out of hand."
"I just think that's our little way of trying to make sure that we celebrate the true reason for the season."
"So what does the Secret Saint do?" Then she thought of an even more important question. "And who is it?"
"No one really knows. It seems to be different people. But whoever it is has a vast network of helpers who let them know when a townsperson might be experiencing difficulty or need some help."
"Like what?" she asked, curious despite herself. She'd never heard of a town that did this kind of thing.
"Sometimes it's simple things, like delivering groceries or a Christmas tree.
Sometimes it's a little bigger, like giving a family who's had a hard time Christmas gifts to put under their tree for their children.
Sometimes it's something as big as repairs to a home, like roofing or a new porch or fixing a banister.
The list could go on and on. Sometimes the Secret Saint has paid off medical bills, given dental care to children, and even helped students with electronics and tuition bills. "
"Whoever it is must know an awful lot about the town." It was too bad the Secret Saint couldn't figure out how to get rid of her panic attacks and help her overcome her stage fright so that she could perform again.
"That's why I sometimes suspect that it's more than one person.
Or, maybe it's been multiple people over multiple years.
I really don't know. And... I have been asked at times if I know anyone who needs help.
I've been asked by different people, though, who claimed that they're not the actual Secret Saint but are just working as a network, and sometimes they even say that they don't know who the actual Secret Saint is! "
"My goodness. That sounds kind of complicated. But really, really sweet." It was so generous and kind that it made her feel really good to be a part of a town that had such a great tradition.
"It's definitely different, and sweet. You're right."
"Someone's sacrificing a lot. Whoever it is must be really rich."
"That's just it. I think it's the townspeople all donating together. It's not just one person funding everything. I could be wrong. Although, I've donated different things."
"I'm sure you have. You're always the first to help in an emergency."
"I try." Vivian chuckled a little and then shook her head. "If you want to know someone who is really good at sacrificing himself, you should just look across the street."
"Across the street?" Grace lifted her head, but she couldn't see much outside in the darkness. The street lights did illuminate the sidewalks, and the Christmas lights twinkled, but all she saw across the street was the music shop, which was closed for the night.
"Noah Parker. He owns the music shop."
"Oh, the music shop owner. What about him?" Grace asked.
"That man sacrificed a career like you have, only... Only we never knew how good he could be."
"What do you mean? Did he not have enough money to move to the city and audition?" She couldn't imagine how he could've sacrificed a career. Surely if he tried hard enough, he could've done the exact same thing that she did.
"No, nothing like that. His parents were killed in an accident when he was barely eighteen. From what I understand, he gave up Juilliard in order to raise the rest of his siblings."
"Juilliard?" Grace was impressed. "That's really giving up something if he had been accepted there."
"Yes. Someone needed to stay and take care of his siblings, and he was the only one who was considered an adult.
The state would release them into his custody, but only if he stayed to take care of them.
He stayed and ran the music shop. It was proven to have brought in an income, and he could hardly give up everything and run off to the city, where you know as well as I do, there was no guarantee that he could make money with his art. "
The starving artist thing was real. She knew plenty of people who were just as talented as she was and who worked just as hard, but who hadn't gotten the breaks that she had.
Not that she felt that she owed her success to luck.
Not at all. She had worked hard, she had developed the talent God had given her, and she had been in the right places at the right time.
It sounded like this Noah person could've had the same thing happen to him, only he could never be in the right place, because he was staying home taking care of his siblings.
"Couldn't he have asked Juilliard to allow him to wait a couple of years and then use his scholarship?" she asked.
"He had a lot of siblings. In fact, he is your age, and the last one just graduated from college this spring. I'm pretty sure his Juilliard dreams are over and out. But he seems happy and content."
Aunt Vivian sounded a little bit unsure about that, and how could she know?
There was something in her tone that caused Grace to look up at her.
Was her aunt lonely? She had never even considered before that her aunt might be anything but exceptionally happy in her beautiful Victorian home with her very full and productive social life.
It seemed like her aunt had her fingers in everything and was constantly helping people.
And she mostly seemed happy. There was just something in her tone.
.. But it was gone. Still, the idea wouldn't leave.
"Are you ever lonely?" She didn't know how else to ask the question and just allowed it to come out the way it needed to.
"My goodness, child. What a question."
It wasn't Grace's imagination. Her aunt paused in squirting icing on a piece of cinnamon candy before she began working again.
"I think everyone has times where they're down or a little upset.
I wouldn't be human if I didn’t. But, I've had a good life.
A great one. God's been so good to me. What more can an old lady ask for than to have her niece come visit her and sit and knit in a cozy living room on a cold December evening? "
"It is pretty nice, isn't it?" she said, glancing at her aunt before looking over at the Christmas tree that twinkled in the corner.
If she wasn't here, would her aunt be sitting in the living room alone? Would she be sad? Would she be wishing that she had someone to share the evening with?
She sensed there might be more to her aunt's story, but she didn't push.
Her aunt was one of the best Christians she knew, living out her faith, not just saying what she believed, but actually living it too.
It seemed like everyone in the town did that.
Maybe not everyone. There were always people who allowed the bad to be bigger than the good in their lives and in their hearts, but.
.. A town that had a vast network of people who helped a Secret Saint bring comfort and joy to so many of its residents had to have a lot of good people, who didn't just talk the talk, but walked the walk too.
She was definitely interested in spending more time with the people. Maybe some of their faith would rub off on her. As it was, she felt a little bit at loose ends.
Lord, what am I supposed to do with my life if I can no longer perform? I thought that was the way I used your gift. But now... Now my fingers are silent, and I feel like I have no purpose. I want to serve you, Lord. But how?