Harry Christmas to You!

December 1

The first of December is chilly outside, and you pull on your favorite gold jumper and your dungarees, which are worn out on the knees, tucking your jumper in as you buckle the straps over your shoulders. You're feeling bloated because it's that time of the month. Ugh. Next you put on your heavy, fuzzy socks and your winter boots. You certainly won't win any fashion awards, but you're only taking the dog for a walk. Then again, your appearance isn't important to you.

You pile your hair messily on top of your head, and you tug on a green beanie to cover your ears. Wrapping your favorite long scarf around your neck multiple times, you thrust your arms into your worn red coat, which you found in the secondhand store in your town. You love the store called "Second to None", and you have known the owner, Mrs. Williams, since you were a little child. Every morning you have to pass the little store on your way to work. Pulling your mittens out of your pocket, you put them on. But then you have to take them off again because you forgot to put the lead onto Benny. Snapping the lead, you exit your cozy warm cottage and head out in the direction of a nearby field. Along the way, you start up a conversation with Benny. It seems less silly to tell your thoughts to a dog. It's not like Benny can answer you, and sometimes that's what you want: someone to just listen.

"It's so frustrating," you tell Benny, "I've worked so hard to make Ash Grove Manor a safe haven for our students with all of their challenges, and now because of the last headmaster misspending funds, we might have to close. I mean, I liked him and all, but he really shouldn't have used school money for that trip to Jamaica with his wife. And even though he's been ordered to pay all of the money back, how can he do that now that he has no job and no one will hire him?" You sigh, stopping briefly to look around you at the cold, grey day. Benny is impatient, though, and after a few seconds, he tugs on the lead to get you moving again.

The walk doesn't take long, which is good because you have to get into work. Your pupils will be arriving soon, so once you take Benny home, you don't bother to change clothes or even repair your hair or put on makeup. After all, who is going to see you? The new headmaster is in closed-door meetings all day, and your colleagues are used to your "fashion sense", as they always tease you. Your students are the ones who matter the most now anyway, and they smile at you no matter what you're wearing.

When you arrive at Ash Grove Manor, you pull your iPhone out of your pocket and snap a photo of the entrance with its handicapped buses pulling up to let students out. The photo doesn't show any faces, but captures perfectly the essence of Ash Grove Manor as a place where students with disabilities can get the education they deserve. You love taking care of these students, and your heart is saddened that the school might have to close. Without much thought, you tweet: "Save Ash Grove Manor!" You impulsively post the picture, not thinking much about the tweet at all.

It isn't until lunchtime that you get a chance to look at your phone again: two missed calls from your mother. You are astounded to find that your little tweet has over 2,000 retweets when your usual perky tweets only get one or, more often, none! Scrolling through the list of people who have retweeted, you come across a name that seems to have a lot of followers: @MrsAnneTwist. Briefly, you wonder who she is. You don't remember any celebrities with that name, so you shrug. You call your mother who wants to know when you're going to "find a nice young man and settle down and quit that silly little job of yours," and you bite back your usual arguments. You're not in the mood. After finishing the grueling conversation with your mother, you put your phone away for the rest of the day.

The afternoon is filled with your smiles and laughter as you take care of the children, singing songs to them, helping them hold their pencils correctly, wiping the drool gently from their chins. You do this work because you love your students, and you're good at interacting with them. They have simple needs, and they don't demand much from you at all. It's the joy in their eyes when you enter the room that makes it all worth your time and effort.

Adults, on the other hand, are always demanding things from you: your sister is constantly bugging you to go out and date men; your mother keeps nagging you to wear makeup and show your legs more; your colleagues want you to eat with them at lunch or go out after work or babysit their children so they can go out. The only one who really understands you is your father. He's the kindest, gentlest father ever, and he fully supports you in everything. "Why does she have to change who she is?" he always asks your mother. "Look at her. She doesn't need makeup or anything else. She sparkles." he says to your mother, looking over his glasses and winking at you.

It's already dark when you step outside in the cold air. You inhale, and your lungs hurt a little bit from the chill. You can see your breath in the dark night. Your brown leather backpack hangs on your right shoulder as you start walking towards home. The smell of fresh bread fills the air as you pass the bakery. You recognize that you have only eaten a yoghurt today. Your stomach is growling, and you picture the pitiful contents of your fridge in your mind's eye. So you decide to go to the supermarket.

With the plastic bags in your hands you walk home. As you arrive at your door you pull with your teeth on your right mitten. After a lifetime of digging in your pocket, you feel the cold steel of the keys in your hand, and you can unlock the door. Benny, the old boy, comes to you with a wagging tail. You smile.

"Hello. How was your day? Have you been nice to Laura?" you ask him. Laura is the daughter of your neighbors. She walks Benny while you are working. You squat, still in your coat and with your beanie on. You stroke gently over his head. After a few minutes you stand up, remove your bulky clothes and walk into the kitchen with the bags.

After you warm up an instant meal you wander sleepily into your bedroom, followed by Benny. He curls up in his basket and you hear his soft wheezes. Benny's steady snoring lulls you into your own deep, dreamless sleep.