A heartfelt Christmas

December 18, 2013 · 0 Comments

A Fictional Story by Alex Sher

Every town has one, a dishevelled, shapeless, possibly homeless person who walks through the streets of the city mumbling to themselves. Harmless and practically invisible except to those who actually see with more than their eyes, and when their hearts open , even if only to not be judgemental, that once invisible person becomes claimed, noticed, cared about, and that is exactly what happened to Annie.

Shelburne, Ontario is a small close knit community where everyone usually knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. It’s fair to say everyone knew of Annie, but no one knew her story. She had become a bit of a novelty over the years, a harmless soul who carried two grocery bags containing her worldly possessions. She wore oversized skidoo boots, a fur hat and matching fur coat which smelled so terrible, ‘eau de Annie’ often arrived before she did. She dressed this way all year round. Social workers had tried to find her a place off the streets but she wouldn’t go. She preferred to wander around and since she wasn’t a danger to anyone or herself, the community participated in a collective consciousness of never complaining, always allowing her to sleep where she wanted, gave her food whenever they could and together, kept a watchful eye over her.

Annie was in her late fifties and had a faraway look about her as though she were trying to remember something and though she never made conversation, she would always nod in a thank you for kindness, always paying attention to young Constable Darryl Rutledge who seemed to keep an eye on her more than most. Occasionally, Constable Rutledge while on patrol would notice Annie and bring her a hot chocolate and a bagel. Having grown up in Shelburne, he was that caring sort of policeman and that kind of gentleman.

On one particular cold winter’s night, Annie was nowhere to be found.

Concerned for her safety in the bitter cold, young Rutledge searched all her favorite sleeping spots, behind the local laundry mat, off to the side of Sawyers Feed Mill, in the door well of the Shelburne Free Press, the back entrance of Woollys Yarns, until finally, he noticed a large cardboard box draped over a clothing drop off box at the local Legion. Only Annie’s two grocery bags and some burned out papers from firecrackers could be seen. It was at that moment, the young Constable had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He then noticed Annie’s familiar dragging footprints left behind in the snow as Annie had walked towards the local fire department. Constable Rutledge checked in with Captain Morrell who had not seen her. The footprints continued on passed Shelburne Fresh Variety, and on to the graveyard. Heart pounding, he couldn’t imagine what would have made her walk all that distance deciding something must have happened.

Footprints in the snow lead the young Constable all over the graveyard and by the time he found Annie, he found her lying, freezing, staring at the headstone of Andrea McCree, mother of Annie and wife to Adam. Young Rutledge, reading the head stone noticed all three had died years ago. The Constable quickly knelt down and realized that Annie was trying to tell him something and while he waited for back up, she told a story he could not begin to fathom. She died in his arms before help could arrive, and her very last words whispered were, “I remember.”

Annie’s death left more questions than answers for the small community and all of Shelburne mourned the death of this stranger they had watched over, claimed over the years and felt responsible for.

For Constable Rutledge however, the odd set of circumstances surrounding this virtual stranger and her passing, left an inexplicable sadness, a need to know more, and he set out to discover what Annie’s story was. When all the pieces were put together, city officials decided to gather at Town Hall, invite the city and tell Annie’s story.

Young and old alike gathered during a bright, mild winter’s day to hear what had happened to Annie, just five days before Christmas.

The city’s mayor first addressed the eager crowd. “People of Shelburne, I think we can say we are all saddened by the death of a stranger whom we came to refer to as Annie. Typically, we never see this sort of thing happen in our fine city and it is due to the kindness of many of you that Annie was able to survive for as long as she did. The kindness extended to Annie by the fine ladies at Woollys Yarns allowed Annie to give gifts to many of us, myself included. Suffice to say,” Mayor Crewson paused wiping a tear from his eye as he quickly looked into the palm of his hand, “Annie will have touched all our hearts this Christmas in the true spirit of Christmas when all is revealed. Now, Constable Rutledge will explain.”

The young Constable was visibly upset when he approached the microphone. He looked out over the crowd and began, “When this sort of tragedy occurs, it leaves many questions. I would like to ask you all to look around at each other for just a moment before I begin. Most of you know each other or know of each other. We take our lives for granted in Shelburne, walking down the street, saying ‘hi’ to people, living in a community where if we went missing, we would be searched for. Annie could have been anyone one of us and when you hear her story, think about the person standing next to you right now and remember, life can change in a heartbeat.

Seven years ago, when the new development was being built, there was a tragedy on Christmas Eve that left that portion of our town devastated. There were only a few families established in the development by this time and a gas leak resulted in the deaths of a young family, the McCree’s who were new to Shelburne. Some of you may remember it was a very sad time of year as both parents and their young daughter passed away.

Rumbling conversation echoed amongst the crowd as those who remembered discussed with their neighbors.

Constable Rutledge continued. “When I found Annie’s grocery bags over by the Legion and noticed the firecracker pieces on the snow, I thought kids must have set them off and didn’t realize Annie was huddled in the cardboard between the clothing drop off box and the wall. Following her footprints to the graveyard, I found her just in time to hear her story before she died. I’ll do my best to tell you in her own words.” Constable Rutledge read from his notes.

“Oh, it’s you. I remember now, I do. Christmas Eve, our new house. Adam had a nap before late mass. He surprised me, new fur coat, hat. We couldn’t afford it. I slipped on his boots to go out and start the truck and called to Annie to wake up her father and switch the fireplace off. When I got to the truck, I looked back, Annie was in the front window watching for me. She was smiling, explosion from behind her, I see through the front window, coming for her, there’s no time, so loud, flames , so big, so fast, the house gone, Annie , gone , knocked me over, I hit my head, soot, and the smell,.. I remember now, I started walking, so cold, wet, dirty, I remember now, my head hurt. I remember Annie’s smile….” Annie’s breathe was laboured as she continued, “I remember, I lived. See, God spared me. God knew I couldn’t live knowing. God knew I wouldn’t want to live without them. Don’t be mad at the kids. They are good boys. They didn’t know I was there. The noise, I banged my head on the cement and I remembered, I lived. I remember, I can go home now to my family, I found them, see?”, Annie pointed to the gravestones. “I can go now, I remember..”

People in the crowd had tears in their eyes. They cried for never knowing Annie mumbled her own daughter’s name, it was not her own. They cried for the sad situation that resulted from that tragedy so long ago. They cried for Annie to be re-united with her beloved family which is why she walked to graveyard, to see their names for herself, to understand her memories were real.

Young Constable Rutledge wiped his eye, took a deep breath and continued,

“It’s upsetting to be sure. You are probably asking how this could happen? There were very few families living there at the time and keep in mind they were new to Shelburne. It was assumed the entire family died in the gas explosion and that fire, it was bad folks. With no one presumed unaccounted for, there was no need to search for anyone. Family and friends never knew Mr. McCree had surprised his wife with a fur coat and hat and Mrs. McCree had become unrecognizable in a very short time. In a state of shock and amnesia, dirtied she wandered around our city, never making eye contact and mumbling the name Annie, still wearing her husband’s boots and the Christmas outfit from the night of the accident. No one looks closely at a homeless person to see if they recognise them, it just doesn’t happen.

Now, Mrs. McCree had a little business she had started earlier in the year before the tragedy and she made felted handbags, bracelets and felted soap covers. For those of you who don’t know, felting is a really old process of shrinking knitting. The ladies at Woollys Yarns often gave Mrs. McCree balls of yarn as an act of kindness. No one ever knew she did anything with the yarn. These are the two bags Mrs. McCree carried around with her. They are filled with little felted hearts. These were her only possessions and she gave them to us.

This woman who some of you called, Crazy Annie, was a woman who had lost her family before her very eyes, lost everything she knew and loved. She had the clothes on her back, the name Annie in her heart’s memory and a skill. She had nothing and was still able to thank people in her own way. She often gave me these tiny little hearts she had made out of yarn and since investigating her story, I discovered many of you were the recipients of these keepsakes also.”

A heavy silence fell across the crowd as many reached into their jacket pockets, some kids wore their felted hearts attached to their zippers, some ladies kept their felted heart in their wallets.

“No one ever noticed who had left the little keepsake on door handles, in mail boxes, on car antennas. She truly had nothing folks, was the saddest person inside herself and still she gave. That is what she did and that is who she was, and she was one of us Shelburne, she was.”

“I see many of you have the little hearts from Mrs. McCree,” the Constable looked out into the community he protected, “I know we feel bad about the situation but I want to remind you that many of us went above and beyond to keep Annie-Mrs. McCree safe over the years, so that’s a good thing. She told me herself God spared her by not making her face what happened to her family and that’s a good thing in its own way. But this year, we have Annie- Mrs. McCree to thank.

This time of year especially, we need to remember the true spirit of Christmas. You might think and feel like you have nothing, some of you feel so overwhelmed by your lives, and I’m here to tell you, you have it all wrong. Following Annie’s example, we have our lives to live, we decide every day how it’s going to be, and the decision to be a good person, is free. Even as devastated as her life was, as sad as she was, as exhausted and alone as she was, she still managed to do good deeds.

That’s the story of our Annie, Shelburne. I’m proud to have known Annie and I’m proud to be a member of this fine community and I want to take this opportunity to wish all of you, in Annie’s, Mrs. McCree’s honor, a ‘Heart Felt Christmas.’