Daytripping Winter 2021-22 Issue

TOWN NAME, TOWN NAME and another awesome TOWN NAME
The Christmas Skunk
We passed the bowl around the room,
each person reaching in to draw the name of
a family member for whom they would buy
a Christmas gift. Normally I was lighthearted
about this annual Thanksgiving tradition.
This time, I was suddenly subdued when
they placed the bowl in my hands. It was one
of those moments when you just know that
you’re being nudged to pay attention. I was
not surprised, then, at the name on my slip
of paper: Annie.
Doctors had diagnosed Annie with
ovarian cancer the year I drew her name
out of the bowl. Although she never said
it, we all did: ‘Why Annie?” The disease
seemed to be especially ruthless to take
up residence in one so undeserving. It had
spread rapidly, leaving her wasted and thin
by Thanksgiving. We knew it’d be touch and
go for her to make it to Christmas, and yet,
that was her final request for herself: “Just
one more Christmas, please.”
Annie was the most giving and servanthearted
person I’d ever met. She always
had a smile ready for anyone, no matter
how rotten her day had been. Often, while
the rest of us lounged, talking and laughing,
she’d be busily cleaning up after everybody
or looking after the needs of our children as
well as her own. Annie always worked hard.
She kept a full-time job, often took care of a
special-needs aunt, and kept house for her
ailing mother-in-law as well as her own. She
volunteered a lot of time and energy to her
church, usually strumming her guitar and
singing songs with the children.
The family had many laughs over Annie’s
simple child-like ways. She was the gullible
one who was easily persuaded that whatever
the salesman at the door or on the phone had
to sell was the best product or program on the
market. She’d come armed with pamphlets
and a beaming face,
convinced that she
held the world’s best-kept secret in her
hands. She was the kind of person who filled
her house with cats because she didn’t have
the heart to turn away strays.
One summer, she even took in two baby
skunks that her Alzheimer-stricken motherin-law
had mistaken for kittens and had
placed in a mother cat’s nest. She took them
with her everywhere she went, feeding them
every four hours around the clock from a
tiny bottle with a special formula. One of
the skunks wandered back into the woods as
soon as it was mature enough, but the other
became attached to Annie and stayed until
the fall. Annie delighted in this little creature.
She named him ‘Stinky’ and bragged about
him to everyone that would listen. He often
came back to see her and for the treats she’d
have for him. During Annie’s battle with
cancer, she would often talk about Stinky.
The little skunk was a ray of sunshine in her
grim existence.
I was in an awkward dilemma. What does
one buy a dying woman for Christmas? All
the regular gifts that would normally bring
pleasure seemed so irrelevant. A sweater?
No. The latest technological device invented
to make life easier? Hardly. A gift certificate?
Uh-uh. I was at a loss and everyone was too
distracted by Annie’s worsening condition
to help me out. Yet I continued to sense
the nudging that I was not to get some
lame gift that would, in essence, deny
Annie’s precarious circumstances. It was to
be a special gift; something that would be
meaningful to her for whatever time she had
left.
Two days before Christmas I found myself
wandering through the mall. On a whim, I
walked into a gift shop that sold the popular
by Helen Bergen, Sparta
from Daytripping Christmas 2005
Beanie Baby stuffed animals. I
knew that the Beanie Baby line
carried various animals, but would there,
by any chance, be a skunk included in the
collection?
We gathered in Annie’s hospital room
on Christmas Eve. Her sisters had come in
earlier to help Annie get dressed and do her
hair. She was radiant that day. Her smile was
almost bigger than her face. We took some
pictures, sang songs, and said prayers. Then,
in keeping with tradition, we exchanged the
gifts, one by one.
A hush fell over the room when I placed
my parcel in Annie’s hands. It seemed that it
suddenly dawned on everyone how awkward
the moment could be. Even Annie seemed
apprehensive. I held my breath too, but in
excitement and anticipation, never taking
my eyes off her face. She let out a squeal of
sheer delight when she pulled the little skunk
out of its wrappings, then another when I
pointed out the name on its tag: Stinky! After
she’d finished laughing and hugging it, she
placed it on her shoulder, where it stayed for
the rest of the evening.
What a comfort to realize that God
concerns Himself with every detail of our
lives. Behind Annie’s plea for “one more
Christmas” was a longing that she couldn’t
articulate: that the magic of the Christmas of
childhood might be true after all. Maybe the
perfect gift, the delight of her heart, would
be hers this year, and she would live happily
ever after. God took note of the deep down
longing - hidden though it was - even from
herself, and through a Beanie Baby skunk
named Stinky affirmed that the magic is
real. Though her body was wasted and her
days on earth would soon be over, the delight
of Annie’s heart would be hers after all. Hers
to keep forever.
PINE DALE
Motor Inn
Clean, spacious rooms
to call home for a holiday
A Place For All Seasons
Lush Gardens on the Ausable River
Close to Pinery Park and Beach
• Pet friendly • Free WiFi
• Fridges, microwaves, charcoal BBQs
• Courtyard rooms w/outside entrance
• Close to groceries, shopping,
wineries, breweries & more
Indoor Pool, Whirlpool, Sauna, Games Room
may be open - please call to inquire.
ROOMS SANITIZED AFTER EACH VISIT
107 Ontario St. S., GRAND BEND
1-888-838-PINE (7463)
www.pinedale.on.ca
Over 13,000
people...
should ...You
too!
Winter 2021/22 Tongue Twister! Bobby Brings Bright Bells.
Page 25