the Mystery of the Christmas gloves

     Daniel stared up at the flag that topped the nearby bell tower, the red ball clearly displayed. The ice on the Central Park lake was frozen through and ready to skate upon. He’d come there every Christmas season for as long as he could remember and couldn’t help but grin at the pleasant memories the site summoned up. This year was special though. This year, Miss Kathleen Brissedon stood beside him, a vision of beauty in her dark red velvet suit, trimmed in white fur. Sighing, he looked down at his own outfit of black and gray. Not very festive, though he did have a red scarf, a last-minute addition as he’d headed out that morning.  If he only had red mittens like the ones he'd had as a child, it would have helped considerably. 

     Kathleen must have sensed what he was thinking. “You look very smart.” She pulled a  piece of holly out of her pocket and used one of her hatpins to fasten it to his lapel. “There, now you look positively merry.”

     The whisp of a memory drifted through his head, though it was gone before he had a chance to firmly grasp it. Something from years ago, a small girl smiling and sticking a piece of holly in his jacket, but nothing more. What did he expect? He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven at the time. 

     “Only because I’m standing next to you.” He motioned for her to sit on the bench and bent down before her. “You look as though you’ve stepped right out of a Currier and Ives print.” He took their skates out of the bag he carried and strapped them on her dainty shoes. “You do recall how to skate, don’t you? It's been a while since we've been on the ice.”

     She chuckled, the warm melodious laugh that always swelled his heart. “That’s why I brought you along. I will try, but I can never seem to keep my balance. I may have to lean on you quite a bit.”

     Secretly he’d been hoping she 'd say that. It would mean he'd be able to hold her all the tighter. As he laced her skates, his mind drifted back again, to that one particular year. The girl’s skate strap had come loose and everyone else was still on the ice. A tear had trickled down her cheek, tugging at his heart, so he’d left the frozen lake and gone to help her. 

     “To be honest,” Kathleen said, “I haven't spent much time on the ice at all. Father thought it wasn't very ladylike, but we must remember propriety.”

     “Always.” Sitting beside her, he strapped on his own skates, then took her hand and led her onto the ice. Another memory captured his thoughts. He’d helped that little girl skate, kept her from falling, and she grinned up at him, capturing his eleven-year-old heart. Kathleen was smiling at him like that now, and it had much the same effect.

     “I don’t think I’ve ever been here before,” she said, “Except . . . yes, I believe I might have been once, long ago. I couldn't have been more than five at the time, but  I remember Mrs. Cole taking me and Colin to the city . . . to see Santa no less.” She laughed. “Even then, I don’t think Colin believed, but it was a day in the city, and we got candy and ice cream.”

     “But you did believe.” They’d begun skating, though she was a bit wobbly on her feet. He’d wrapped his arm around her waist, careful not to let it drift too low, and let her lean against him.

     “Oh, yes, completely, even if I knew he wouldn’t be bringing me much that year. 

     “And why not? Surely your father had one scheme or another in the works. After all, he was swindling someone out of enough money to send you to boarding school.” She sighed, and he regretted sounding so harsh. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. None of it was your fault.”

     She smiled up at him and snuggled closer. “I know that, but . . . I can’t help being ashamed, even if I do realize I had nothing to do with any of it. And as for boarding school, I think it was just a way to keep us out of his hair so he could get on with business. He gave Mrs. Cole some money to care for us over the summer and holidays, but it barely covered her expenses. She was a kind woman, though, and did her best. We always had new scarves, hats, and gloves for the winter, but more than that, she always made us feel loved.”

     “Where is she now?”

     “She passed away while I was at Vassar. It broke my heart that I wasn’t there with her.  We were all she had as well, you see.”

     “I’m sure she understood.”

     Kathleen nodded, her brow crinkling. “She was so excited about bringing us here that day.” She cocked her head to the side, a distant, dreamy look in her eyes. “I don’t remember much about our day in the city, but I do recall falling in love.”

     Daniel chuckled. “Falling in love? At five years old?”

     She nudged his chest. “Don’t be so cheeky. He was an older man, probably all of ten or eleven, and ever so handsome, with gold waves falling over his forehead and deep brown eyes. He came to my rescue, like a knight of old, and then he asked me to skate.”

     “Did he? That was quite forward of him. I’m surprised Mrs. Cole didn’t object.”

     Kathleen laughed. “She was probably grateful to him.  I didn’t skate very well then either, and the dear woman wasn’t all that steady on her feet to begin with.”

     She almost lost her footing , and he tightened his grip. “Hmm, nothing has changed then.” She swatted his arm playfully, and he wondered if she could hear how his heart had begun to thunder beneath his heavy winter coat.     

     “Was that how he rescued you? Asking you to skate?”

     “Very funny, but no. The strap on one of my skates had come undone, and Mrs. Cole had taken a seat on the other side of the lake. Colin was supposed to be keeping an eye on me, but he took off racing some boys and . . .” She shrugged. “My hands were so cold, I couldn’t do it up, and I began to cry. ”

     “None of us did, but why were your hands cold? Didn’t you have gloves?”

     Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, but somehow they managed to grow even redder. “I’d lost them on the train. They were the new ones Mrs. Cole made for me. That’s why I was trying to fasten the skates myself. I didn’t want her to know. At least, not until we got home. She would have given me hers, and her hands were always so chapped in the winter. The dear woman would have insisted I take them anyway.” 

     An odd feeling washed over Daniel, a mixture of joy and awe, like the feeling that fills you when you catch sight of the first snowfall. “Do you recall the boy’s name?”

     “I don’t think I ever knew it, but he was very kind. Not only did he fasten my skates, but he stayed with me. He even gave me his gloves.” They came to a bench and sat down for a moment. “Do you promise you won’t laugh if I tell you something?”

     “How could I possibly make such a promise and be truthful to either you or myself? So instead, I will simply promise to try and contain my amusement.”

     “Hmm, I suppose that will have to do then. I’ve kept them all these years . . . the gloves, I mean. I thought if I ever saw him again, I might return them. It’s all a bit silly, I know. I’m sure he’s changed quite a bit by now. He’d be around your age I expect.” She reached into her pocket and took out two small red mittens, lovingly knitted with a white deer and Christmas tree on top.

     Daniel could barely speak. Explosions of happiness burst forth from the seed of joy planted all those years ago. “Those are my gloves. I gave them to a little girl in a midnight blue coat. She couldn’t skate very well either.”

     Kathleen’s dusty blue eyes shone like the late afternoon sky, but a doubt lingered there. “But how?” She shook her head. “No, it can't be. I distinctly remember his hair was lighter, a sandy blond.”

     “Yes, it was. It didn’t start to darken for another year or so. I got taller, my voice deepened, and my hair got darker.” She wanted to believe him, but he could still sense a hint of doubt, so he continued. “I was very upset about losing those gloves. They were the first thing Mother knitted me after I came to live with her and Father. The truth is, they’d gotten too small, and she’d knitted dozens of others, but for some reason, I insisted on squeezing my hands into them.”

     A broad grin spread across her face, her eyes glistening. “Because they were special to you, as they are to me. I always felt in my heart I’d find you again.” A light snow had started to fall, and she touched his cheek. “Do you believe in Christmas miracles?”

     He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his embrace, the warmth radiating throughout his entire being. “I do, and I believe I’m holding one at this very moment.”