It was a quiet Christmas Eve night with just the whispers of a light drizzle, when Old Joseph was called out to empty the garbage from several houses with his horse cart. He was the odd-job man of the small village. But Old Joseph didn’t mind, he was past 70 years old and needed the income, as meagre as it was.
His horse was perhaps also a pensioner in horse years – neither old Joseph nor the villagers were sure. But the two were inseparable, always seen around the village fetching anything and everything they could. Sometimes they even got work from the next village. But as slow as they were, the two would be out all day, which for them both was tiring, so Old Joseph did not take such long runs very often.
Suddenly the quiet of the Christmas evening was shattered by two neighbours quarrelling loudly: the Bradfords and the Persauds. As Old Joseph passed by their houses, he could hear the loud insults and curse words being traded from the landings. He shook his head sadly and with some disgust.
“Even though I should be accustomed to their constant quarrelling,” he thought to himself, remembering the almost daily feuds during the year, “it is Christmas Eve, why should people be behaving so with each other?”
The old man and his horse passed silently by, and, as the nasty words faded into the night, he began to hear Christmas carols, sung from the church a street away. The sounds soothed his dismay while the horse’s ears seem to prick up and his walk became slightly livelier as if he too felt the beauty of the carols.
It was almost 10‘o’ clock by the time Old Joseph was finished. He collected his pay which, to his surprise and delight, was a lot more than he was accustomed to receiving. Adding it up back in his small shack at the edge of the village, he realised that together with what he had saved over the year, he had quite a decent sum for himself.
He smiled happily and went out to get food for himself and his horse for the long Christmas weekend fast approaching, returning home about two hours later, laden with groceries and supplies. The Bradfords and the Persauds had by then ended their feud, and the night became calm once more though now rainy.
The whole village settled in for the night as the outdoor Christmas fairy lights decorating most homes twinkled on, their reflections sparkling in the puddles of water outside.
The next morning everyone was up early, the children eager to see what Santa had brought them. But it was the cry of surprise from the older Bradfords later, who then called out to the Persauds, which sent everyone else nearby rushing out to see what was going on.
Mrs Bradford had opened her front door to sit on the landing with her cup of tea after the family had their Christmas breakfast, when she glanced down and noticed a parcel several stairs down. It was a brown paper bag, enclosed in a clear plastic bag for protection from the rain, with the words, “Merry Christmas to the Bradfords from the Persauds” written in bright red and tied with green ribbon.
Rushing down to pick it up, Mrs Bradford opened it and discovered a small packet of chocolates and a bunch of grapes inside. When she called out to the Persauds, Mrs Persaud also rushed out to find a brown parcel at her front door but with the words “Merry Christmas to the Persauds from the Bradfords”. Opening it, she too found a small packet of chocolates and a bunch of grapes.
The two women looked at each other, “But I…”. But how…?” they asked each other simultaneously.
Then the two started to cry and ran out to hug each other. The children and husbands all came out and looked on, astonished at the women who, by this time, were tearfully apologising to each other for the brouhaha the night before, and wishing each other only the best for the season.
The other neighbours, who had also rushed out onto their landings, suddenly noticed the same kind of parcel on their steps, and they too cried out with astonishment to their equally astonished neighbour. Each gift was from the other neighbour. The whole village of about 10 families had each received fruits and chocolates for Christmas.
Everyone gathered outside their front gates that morning, discussing and wondering who put the gifts out for them late that rainy Christmas Eve, because when they went to bed, nothing was outside. Everyone was hugging each other, some neighbours crying with joy at the gesture, whoever it was that performed such a small but wonderful deed.
As Old Joseph came out to pick up the trash left behind from the eagerly opened presents earlier that morning, the few others about asked him if he too got any gift; to which he quietly said no and continued on his way.
The neighbours began feeling sorry for Old Joseph, and realising how selfish it would be to leave the old man without a gift for Christmas. One by one, they arrived at Joseph’s little home and offered him pepper pot, black cake, mauby, baked chicken and all the traditional Guyanese Christmas foods.
They even brought food for Old Joseph’s horse – which appeared to be enjoying the rubs from the children as he munched his gifts.
It was a special Christmas for the small village that year, and a tradition, started that rainy Christmas Eve, continued for years after.
No one ever seemed to have noticed that, on Christmas Day, upon seeing the joy and togetherness of the villagers, especially among the Bradfords and the Persauds, Old Joseph had an extra wide grin when he passed by with his horse and cart gaily decorated with Christmas ribbon. (A. Ally)
