Amie Bernstein; Chapter 13

 

Amie Bernstein; Chapter 13

© 2022 by Amber Wright

A TIME TO CELEBRATE

Date: Winter 1901

Place: London, England

Christmas Eve came.

The parlor was lit up to perfection. The grand 12-foot Christmas tree transposed the windows into a star-lit scene, the snowy street as its backdrop. Strong smells of evergreen wafted through the room along with the mixed scents of cinnamon, spices, turkey and dressing. Amie sat on a settee, tapping her plaid holiday slippers in excitement. Beside her, Kitt kept gulping. His hair was nicely greased blacker, parted in the middle parallel to his cherry-red bowtie.

“I don’t feel nice.” Kitt tugged at his bowtie and wrinkled his nose.

“You look nice.” Amie gave him a nod of approval. “So don’t bother about not feeling nice. Do I look nice…or horrible?” She made a face.

“Horrible.” Kitt grinned and watched her reaction.

Amie shrugged unconcernedly. “Well, they say when some people aren’t capable of giving you a compliment, they give you a cut. And they mean the exact opposite. Like you.” She turned her blank-looking face into a mischievous smile.

“You’re the most horrible-looking girl I’ve ever met then!” Kitt said a little loudly.

“And you’re the most horrible-looking boy I’ve ever met!” Amie retorted back, holding back a giggle.

Kitt had a hard time keeping a straight face, too, she could tell. Then she saw Oncle Aaron walking towards them with a stern look to his usually merry face.

Her uncle stopped at the edge of the crowd of people filling the large living room. “Now, Amie, Kitt, no fussing. It’s Christmas Eve.”

They nodded, Amie stifling a laugh. As soon as Oncle Aaron had gone, they broke into a fit of giggles.

Annie Montgomery walked up with their music sheets and gave them each a quizzical look. “Are you two youngsters ready to sing?”

“Sing—so soon?” their laughing faces collapsed into an almost terrified stare.

“Aw, c’mon, m’loves.” Annie gave them each an affectionate pat on their shoulders. “We can do it. And then—we get to eat in peace, with no thoughts of thinking about singing in front of everyone.”

“Oh, alright.” Kitt agreed.

He loved eating in peace. The entire household knew that. Even the old gardener man knew. One time Amie had caught Kitt in the freezing cold garden, wrapped up like a snowman, eating his dinner.

Amie smiled and teasingly added, “And then everyone can hear our growling stomachs harmonizing with us! Won’t that be fantastic?”

“Oui!” Kitt wiped the grin off of his face and stood, extending both arms. “My ladies?”

Annie took his arm with a little smile, but Amie gave it a slight frown as she took it. “Really, Kitt, you’re still just a little boy.”

“And you’re still just a little girl who thinks she’s grown up!” Kitt retorted back.

“Children.” Annie gave them a stern glance.

“Oui, Mamma!” they answered with teasing grins.

Annie’s face flushed bright pink as she stood between Amie and Kitt beside the piano where Gad had seated himself, posed to play. He was stretching his fingers with a large smile for each of them as they planted themselves into their places, just so. Then he played the introduction, and the singers began.

“Silent night, holy night…”

Amie tried hard to concentrate on her singing but she kept hearing two old ladies talking from the nearest settee. “Look at her, pretty just like her mother.”

“Aye, and the lad’s not bad-looking either.”

“Don’t they make an angelic little group? I always thought that Annie girl was a pretty one. Look at her blue silk dress. And such puff sleeves! My! I’ll wager it was bought by…”

“The charming gentleman playing the piano.”

A little laugh followed. But was soon broken.

“Wouldn’t they make a fine pair?”

“Which ones?”

“Why, both of the pairs, in fact! I was meaning, the youngsters. Nice-looking, aren’t they? His little bowtie is so captivating.”

“But aren’t they cousins?”

“Pish-posh! They’re only third cousins and on the female side, at that. Well,” she closed one eye and studied them through her eyeglass. “Don’t you think Miss Amie’s dress simply matches her greeny-blue eyes?”

“Perfectly.” And out came the other lady’s eyeglass. “She’s staring at us, we’d better stop, Mabel.”

“Not quite, Louise. Just look,” Mabel suddenly cleared her throat nervously. “Oh dear me! Now the boy’s staring at us.” She took one more look from her eyeglass. “My, such wonderful eyes! Smashing.”

“Aye, but let’s do stop now.”

“I’d suggest we do. But,” she smiled with a twinkle to her merry old eyes, “I’d wager we’ll be invited to a certain wedding in times to comes. Weddings, in fact.”

“Mabel, let’s not surmise, shall we not?”

“Certainly, and I’m not surmising. Just contemplating.”

“Contemplating, indeed!”

The song had finished—beautifully—and now the two old ladies’ hands looked blotchy red from clapping so heartily, Amie quickly noticed. She watched the old lady called Mabel stand and saw her coming over to them with a merry smile. Her insides shook with laughter. What would this lady say to Annie? She looked as if she was ready to matchmake the entire young population of London. And wouldn't she love that task! Amie sobered herself up so as not to squeak when she spoke.

“Hello, m’loves.” She gave Amie a kiss on her cheek and squeezed Kitt’s shoulders. “You did beautifully! I was just telling Louise what fine singers yous were.”

Amie gulped in a giggle. She had heard everything…meanwhile, trying to sing. They couldn’t have possibly heard them singing. They had been too busy talking about them. “Thank you, Mrs. Flemings.”

“And I haven’t met you yet, young man.” Mrs. Flemings turned to Kitt.

“Kitt.” Kitt gulped. “Kitt Lazar. Thank you, madam.”

Mrs. Flemings walked away and shortly after Amie invaded the kitchen for some fudge. Her stomach was growling terribly and still supper had not been announced. Kitt tagged behind her, smelling the word food. They met Cook with hands full of dough, shaping little croissant rolls onto cookie sheets. Supper was almost ready, it looked like, just not quite.

“So, Miss Amie, how was your song?” Cook asked when she noticed them.

“Good enough, I suppose.” Amie smiled humbly.

“We did beautifully!” Kitt said dramatically with a grin. “So Mrs. Flemings says.”

“Over on that shelf there,” Cook winked at them and nodded to the reserved platter of fudge. “Help yourself. Just don’t eat too much. We eat in 20 minutes sharp.”

“Thank you,” Amie and Kitt immediately grabbed a piece of chocolaty fudge.



Amie kept tossing under her thick soft covers restlessly. Finally, she crawled out of bed and wrapped her warm, furry robe around her and sat on the window seat.

The street lamps below were burning brightly. Above, the stars twinkled by the millions. Outside, the snow heaped across the landscape like a frosty white blanket, wrapping the city in a shivering embrace and yet transforming it into a winter wonderland—just for Christmas. Then she happened to notice a bright star shining brighter than the others, and it reminded her of days long gone by.

“Silent night, holy night…” she sang softly, watching the star flickering gently, burning brightly, calling to her as if whispering, I am the star that led the wise-men. I am the star that followed the Christ Child...to His manger on that night so long ago. I am here, ready to lead you when you ask. And I will always be here, waiting. Amie blinked.

Somewhere in the dark streets, carolers’ voices echoed into her ears. “It came upon a midnight clear… Peace on the earth, good will to men…”

The words of the song entered into Amie’s soul, And man, at war with man, hears not the love song which they bring. O hush the noise, ye men of strife, and hear the angels sing… When peace shall over all the earth its ancient splendors fling. And the whole earth give back the song which now the angels sing. In Amie's mind, she remembered the events of recent times. In Russia, Jews were being arrested, their homes burnt down, their livelihood destroyed and their hatikva torn from them. Many had fled to Western Europe and to the United States, trying to build new lives again. She prayed they would.

Then there was the Boer War which had been intense in South Africa for two years now. Only their prayers kept their faith and hopes renewed—and their courage and spirits high when the horrible news of guerrilla fighting gave them a shudder of bleakness. Only then were they able to celebrate, live, wait, hope and prepare the victory in every heart. For someday that War would end. Someday peace would return. Someday.

“Peace on the earth, good will to men.” Amie whispered to the darkness. To the bright star twinkling above that was still calling out to her. Now it spoke, I am still here. When you have no hope, when there is no way, when there is no one to turn to, I am here. Ready to lead you—always.

She stood, took a deep breath and realized her eyes were growing sleepy. The words that she had sung earlier came echoing into her ears as she slid under the thick soft covers. Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright… Sleep in heavenly peace… Son of God, love’s pure light…dawn of redeeming grace… Wondrous Star, lend thy light… Yes, sleep in heavenly peace.



Christmas morning came in a rush of getting dressed and gathering in the parlor where stockings lined the mantelpiece sagging with weight. After each child had received their filled stocking, they sat down on the cushiony carpet and Papa opened his big black Bible to the Gospel of Matthew to read the first Christmas Story. Amie perked up her ears as she held her stuffed stocking in her lap, and listened. Now it was the part where the wise-men were searching for baby Jesus.

“…Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him…” Papa read in his rich warm voice.

We have seen his star… Amie thought with a little smile, remembering last night.

After Papa had prayed, he began passing out the gifts heaped under the grand Christmas tree. As Amie watched Papa hand out the gifts, a flickering of a candle on the tree caught her attention. Then she realized the meaning of it all. She was a flickering candle resting in the grand tree of life—God’s life—and, wherever she would go, whatever she would do, she would shine her flickering candle brightly. As brightly as the star she had seen last night.

“Miss Amie.” Papa handed her a gold-foiled wrapped gift.

Amie opened it eagerly and found herself holding a brand new black Bible with her name printed on its cover in gold letters. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll always treasure it!”

“I knew you would love such a gift.” Papa smiled. “This was your first year you lit the Menorah candlestick so we thought it was a fitly present.”

Amie smiled. This was her first year to light the Menorah candles. She had been so happy and proud. She had felt so grown-up. Today she felt even happier. This was her first time to really understand the real meaning of Christmas, a time to celebrate the Christ Child’s birth. A day to remember to give gifts to others as they had been given the greatest Gift of all: Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes that dark night in that stinky manger so long ago in ancient Palestine.

“Papa, have you opened my gift to you yet?” Amie suddenly asked, remembering her gift for him. She watched him dig into the pile and smiled.

“Thank you so much, Amie.” A smile lit Papa’s face as he saw the little, brightly-colored painted wooden man. “And yes, a time to remember our brave soldiers fighting off in faraway South Africa.”

Amie nodded with a sudden gulp. Her cousin Shad was off fighting. How was his Christmas in the cold trenches? Was he even alive? She breathed a little prayer for him and finally spoke again. “Yes, to keep our soldiers alive in our hearts even when they are so faraway and…” She gulped, Gone.

Kitt lowered his head, looking ready to cry. His father had been killed in Russia when Kitt was only four. Kiev Lazar had been a Russian soldier but had been executed because he was a Jew. Lois and Kitt had barely managed to escape. That was when they had fled to Paris, France, where Lois’ family were. A cheerful voice then splintered the dull ache in their hearts.

“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Gad burst into the room full of energy.

Amie’s smile returned. “Merry Christmas!”

French/English translation:

Oncle…………………… Uncle

oui……………………… yes