Christmas Gifts

[vinsmouse]

Disclaimer: I don't own the Dukes of Hazzard, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst; Tissue Warning

Rating: FRC

Summary: Based on the song Christmas Carol. Luke Duke and his wife get a very special gift for Christmas.

Christmas Gift

When I woke up that morning, I had no idea that by the end of the day, Christmas Eve, our lives would be forever changed. It had only been two years since Kim and I had stood before our family and friends to exchange our vows. Those two years had been filled with some joy, but it had been outweighed by the shadows of grief.

I met Kim on a trip to Atlanta. She was so beautiful and I couldn't believe she had agreed to go out with me. Bo used to teases me that I'm just lucky he wasn't there or she never would've looked at me. He stopped after he said it in front of Kim though. I nearly fell out of my chair when my sweet girl just looked at my cousin and asked him why he thought she'd want a little boy when she could have a man. Bo blushed redder than I've ever seen him, but he stopped teasing me.

What can I say about Kim? She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Emerald green eyes with red hair and a temper to match. It's not just the outside that's beautiful either, her soul is just as beautiful. She reminds me sometimes of my Aunt Martha, and like my aunt it seems she won't be having any children of her own. Twice in the past two years she has come to me with the news that I was to be a father. The first pregnancy ended in an early delivery, our daughter didn't live long enough to take more than a few breaths. We laid her to rest next to my parents. For a while I didn't think Kim would survive the loss, sinking into a black depression that wouldn't seem to leave. My wife is strong though, she has that in common with my aunt too. Somehow she pulled herself out of her grief, moving on with life, eventually finding happiness again.

The second pregnancy had barely gotten started when it ended, thanks to Hobie. I had never hated anybody as much as I hated him that day. I was at Uncle Jesse's working with him and Bo to harvest the crops we shared. Kim was at the house with Daisy, canning garden vegetables, some of which would go to our home just over the hill. A case of jars fell, breaking and leaving them short of the number they needed. Kim offered to drive to town and pick up some more, she never made it. Hobie, drunk as usual, was driving on the same road.

I'll never forget the hollow feeling when Enos came out to the field to tell me. I still don't know how I got to the hospital. I vaguely remember Bo offering to take me, but the trip there is a blur at best. I waited for hours, alternately praying that I wouldn't lose my wife and cursing Hobie for the destruction he'd caused. When the doctor finally came to talk to me, the news wasn't good. The child Kim had carried had been lost, nearly taking Kim with him. The doctor told me that she had hemoragghed badly, the damage from the wreck had been extensive. Thank God they had been able to save her, but the doctor said she would never be able to have another child. Frankly at that moment I didn't care about that, I only cared that Kim was alive, that she hadn't been taken from me. It was only later, when I had to tell her, that it began to hit me and I realized how hard this was going to be. It was of course hardest on her; she had finally come to terms with it, though there was a lingering sadness in her eyes, especially when she saw a child on the street.

They say that God works in mysterious ways and I guess that Christmas was proof of it. Uncle Jesse was supposed to play Santa in the town square, like he did every year. Two days before his scheduled appearance, he came down with the flu. It was clear there was no way he could play Santa and it was equally clear that the kids couldn't be disappointed. Before I knew what was happening, I was sitting in a big chair in the gazebo that sat in the square, greeting children as they climbed up on my lap to whisper their wishes for Christmas.

It was nearing the end of the day when the cutest little girl I've ever seen climbed up on my knee. She looked to be about 3 or 4, with the bluest eyes and coal black hair. I looked into those wide eyes and asked her what Santa could do for her? She said my name is Christmas Carol and I was born on Christmas day. I don't know who my daddy is and mommy's gone away. All I want for Christmas is for someone to take me home. Santa, does anybody want a Christmas Carol of their own?

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, told her I'd do the best I could. Reminding her to be good, I set her on her feet and watched her walk away. As the tears began to streak my cheeks, she turned to wave good-bye and I was sure glad she wasn't close enough to see old Santa cry. I couldn't get her out of my head, the words she'd said kept ringing in my ears. When I got home I had a long talk with Kim. By the time I'd finished the story, we both had tears in our eyes. One look into my wife's eyes was all it took, without a word she agreed to my idea.

Early Christmas morning I got up and called the orphanage. After I told them what I wanted, it didn't take long to make the arrangements. They said we could pick her up that day if we wanted to. Wanted to? There was nothing that could've stopped us! I drove to the orphanage in record time, while Kim stayed home to make a big Christmas breakfast. Things moved fast, papers were signed giving us temporary custody of the girl, her small bags were packed and we were on our way home.

My two girls got along like a house afire. Like a ghost, Chris slipped into our hearts and our lives as though she'd always been there. After Christmas, the most joyous either of us had ever had, we really got to work on the process of adopting her. Living in a small town, a place where everybody knows you, has it's advantages they say. I know I love it, and that year I was especially grateful for it. Being known and respected made the process much easier. There was a home visit from a social worker, but it was more of a formality than anything. We signed the papers that would allow us to adopt our little girl and several months later it became final.

I look around the table at my family, silently thanking God for the gifts that he's given me. A year has passed, it's Christmas day again and my little Christmas Carol will never again have to say: My name is Christmas Carol I was born on Christmas day. I don't know who my daddy is and mommy's gone away. All I want for Christmas is someone to take me home. Does anybody want a Christmas Carol of their own?

The End.

Hope y'all liked my little Christmas offering. It is based on my favorite Christmas song. My Name Is Christmas Carol by Skip Ewing. Carol's words to Santa come from that song. If you'd like to hear it you can email me and I'll give you the link. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Please review.