Stephanie's story

Steph has written a Christmas story for her english class. I enjoyed it very much and wanted to share it with you all. She is a gifted writer. And her heart is large. Enjoy...

With My Brother’s Hand in Mine

It was a rather cold, Cambodian night as my eye let go of a tear. I wiped it away with my thick, black hair. Christmas was coming soon, and there I was, thirteen years old, lying under my mosquito net on the street. My two year old brother sleeping soundly next to me, his dirty, little hand in mine. Two years ago, since my mother lost her job, Christmas has always been the same. On Christmas morning, my mom would wake up early and go sweep the streets. There, my brother and I were left.

I didn’t go to school anymore. We couldn’t afford anything more than what we had. For just one Christmas, I wanted to be happy or receive something like the other kids do, but I knew that could only be dreamed. As I lay thinking about what a real Christmas would be like, my eyes drooped and I fell asleep.

The sound of a car horn rudely awakened me. It was a normal Cambodian day, and everyone was out and about. My mother had already left to work, and I almost got up without noticing the card lying by my feet. “A card?” I thought. I quickly opened the envelope and it revealed the most beautiful card I had ever seen. It had sparkles, ribbon, bow and lace on it, and in what looked like perfect handwriting, this is what it said:

“To my beautiful child, S’rey Lin.

I would like to invite you to my church on this coming Sunday. It is the New living Church. I am sure you’ve heard of it, since it is nearby. Bring your brother, as well as yourself. I’ll be there.

Love, Your Father.”

“My father?” I accidently said aloud. My father had left my mother when she was pregnant with my brother. How could he go to church like the good men do? I was confused, but I decided it wouldn’t hurt to go, and it would pass the time, so I planned to.

My brother woke up and stared at me with his large, brown eyes, as if they were asking me for food. I started to cook the rice to share for breakfast. We continued our normal Saturday, and went to sleep, excited for the big day tomorrow.

When we arrived, many people were there. It seemed like a busy day and I wondered if it was always like that. I remembered to look for my dad, and I tried to find him. I didn’t exactly know what he looked like now, but I had a funny feeling I would find him soon.

As I entered the church, I got smiles from some, and stares from others, so I just sat in the back, not knowing what to expect. During the speaking of the man at the front, I suddenly felt tremendous peace. I had no idea how or why, but when it was over, I wanted to come back. I tried to look for my father, but I didn’t find him, or anyone who looked anything like him.

Later that night, my mom and I were sitting together on the street talking about the day. We saw the motos and cars drive by, and heard the faint chatter of the other Cambodians. It was a peaceful night. My stomach growled as I smelled the food cooking from the little restaurant across the street. I talked to her about church, and the letter I had received. She was very surprised it was from her husband. My mom told me about her day, and how she had swept up one thousand riels! ($.25) I was just about to ask her to spend it on the food across the street, when I caught my tongue and realized we needed to save it. As much as I wanted food that night, I couldn’t. I said myself a little prayer, and went to sleep. I wanted to go back to church and learn more about the God the man was talking about.

I returned the next week, and during the speech, I felt even more at peace than the last week! My brother had fallen asleep, and I thought a quick prayer to God.

“God, please make this Christmas a good one, one that I can smile and laugh for real.”

I meant that with all of my heart, and needed it more than anything.

At the end of church, I was about to leave when the man that spoke called me. He had very black eyes and said that his name was Sokha. He asked my questions like where I lived, and why I came to church, and how I felt about life in general, and about my family. After about twenty minutes, we finished and he said, ”It was nice to meet you, and if you don’t mind, I would like you to bring your family here on Christmas Eve, I think I can do something for you.” I thanked him and left, wondering if he was my father. I carried my brother out the door, although it felt more like someone was carrying me.

I was really tired. I had already talked with my mom about the church on Christmas Eve and she had agreed to come. It seemed as if she really wanted a change in her life too. I fell asleep, my brother’s dirty, little hand in mine.

Three days passed, and it was Christmas Eve. We arrived at church, and the only person there was the man.

“Hello, S’rey Lin, is this your mother?” He asked me.

I answered yes, and it looked like he was ready to give good news by the way his eyes sparkled.

“Well, I know your position in life isn’t the greatest right now, so I’ve talked with the church and made some arrangements.”

My heart was leaping.

“The church can support your family with a small apartment for now, and we’ve opened a new job for your mother to work here. We’ve also gotten new clothing for you all, as well as toothbrushes, soap, shampoo and other items like that.”

My eyes filled with joyful tears and my mother and I thanked Sokha so much that I thought he would pass out from being ‘over-thanked.’

He drove us to our new apartment, showed us around, and left. There was even a Christmas tree inside! Even my brother smiled, and that was something that didn’t happen on a regular basis! We all had showers and cleaned ourselves for once in a long time. We had two beds, one for my mother, and one for my brother and I. I prayed, “Thank you so much, God, for everything!!!” We fell asleep easily, my brother’s clean, little hand in mine.

It was only until after many other visits to church that I realized who the letter was really from. It truly had been a Christmas miracle.