Kadyn slumped in his chair and only half listened as his band director droned on and on. It was already worse than the year his measles itched so much he couldn't wear the Superman pajamas his aunt sent from Hawaii. It was even worse than last year when he finally admitted there really wasn't any Santa Clause.

The kids in school had teased him since kindergarten but he satisfied them by saying he was only "pretending" to believe. The truth was, he pretended on the outside but on the inside he could not give up hope. Deep in his heart  he suspected that somewhere the "real" Santa was out there waiting to be discovered.

Year after year it was the same, until last Christmas when hope came to an end. There really was no miraculous place where elves made toys and a jolly man with a white beard kept a list of who was naughty and who was nice.  Nothing special had happened to make him admit it He just knew. The tiny flame he had kept alive with private hopes and wishes finally went out.

Something  magical died that year and although one day it would be replaced by adult hopes built on more solid ground,  this year Christmas was a little grayer and a little sadder than he ever thought it could be.

If that were not enough, his parents added to the misery of the holiday by telling him the family would be moving before the first of the year. Now, nothing felt like Christmas. Packing boxes filled the space where a large tree once stood and the small, artificial thing leaning in the corner wasn't even worth calling a "tree."  

Then, just when he thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, they did. The proof was under his chair.

"Kadyn, you're not paying attention!" Mr. Gather's voice was stern. "I would think my first-chair cello would know better than to sleep during rehearsals! Even if you are two years younger than everyone else, you can stay awake." The rest of the orchestra snickered. 

"I wasn't asleep....sir."

"Then, cheer up. You've been moping since I announced your name as winner of the solo competition!"

 

But, his mood wasn't his fault. It was his teacher's. The moment Mr. Gather announced his name as winner, he also handed him the dreadful box. Kadyn took one peek under the lid and his heart sank into his shoes. He had been staring at the floor ever since.

 

The rest of the day passed slowly and when the final bell rang, Kadyn gathered his backpack, gym clothes, then sauntered back to the band hall for his instrument and the hated box.  Waiting on the walk he felt sure if there was a Santa and he had a sleigh it wouldn't be big enough for all the junk he had to haul to school each day.

 

"Hey, Kadyn , how did it go?" his mother cheerfully greeted him as she pulled to the curb.

 

"OK, . . . I guess." He helped load the suburban in silence then  dropped into the front seat with a sigh. 

 

"How did the solo competition turn out?"

"I sorta won."

 

"Wow! That's is great!" she tousled his hair. Kadyn hated when she did that. "I guess that proves Mr. Gather was right about letting you join the Junior High orchestra. You're good!"

Kadyn shrugged. He knew he and his cello were exceptionally good. Good enough to play with the big kids. Probably good enough to go to Juilliard. Maybe one day he'd play in a big city symphony. Or even tour the world. And, he'd wear a tuxedo; not a dumb costume. Only opera singers wore dumb costumes.

 

"What's in the box?" his mom asked.

 

He had to say something. Sadly, the only thing he could think of was the truth. "It's my elf costume for the concert." The words came out in a weary explosion of breath.

 

"Oh, I remember!" Mom brightened. "They did that last year. The winner of the contest sits right in the middle of the stage and a spot light shines on him. Just think! This year it will be shining on you!" She paused to savior the idea a moment before continuing. "Are they going to use the same set? The one that looks like Santa's workshop? You will be so cute!"

 

"I don't want to be cute!" he moaned. "All the other guys get to dress up. I'm gonna be the only one looking dopey."

 

"Come on, Kadyn. It's only for a couple of hours and it's a school tradition."

 

He thought for a moment. "Can't I at least leave the pointy ears at home?"

 

Her frown was answer enough.

 

At last, the week was over and Saturday blew in with bright, clear sunshine and brisk cold air. He still hated the costume and it was still going to be a lousy Christmas, but at least he had two days out of class and his friend, Matthew, came over. It wasn't until Sunday afternoon that life turned sour again.

 

His parents were in the process of saying goodbye to all their friends, so it wasn't a surprising when they invited Reverend Gibbs home for lunch after church.

 

Dr. Jonathan S. Gibbs was as stiff as his name and Kadyn didn't like him very much. Even though the school counselor said his vocabulary was twice that of most ten-year-olds, he couldn't understand half the words this beak-faced man said. Worse, the man never seemed to smile. Kadyn ate his peas quickly hoping to get away from the table as soon as possible.

 

That was when Christmas took another blow.

The adults were saying something about how sad it was that the "real" Christmas got mixed up with "myths." Kayden kept eating his peas.

"Just take the carols for an example," Dr. Gibbs pointed out. "Even the most traditional offerings, such as Hark the Harold Angels Sing don't tell the truth. Angels can't sing! They may speak antiphonally, but they never sing and they probably don't have wings either."

 

Kadyn's fork froze in midair and his eyes grew wide. No angel songs? Impossible! He gulped hard and asked to be excused.  Soon, the gentle sounds of cello music drifted from his lonely room.

 

The subject didn't come up again until late that night. He was tucked in bed looking at the dark ceiling when a soft knock came to his door. "Ready to say, goodnight?" Soon  his Dad's  rough beard was scratching his face. The hug felt good even though ten-year-olds never admitted such things.

 

"I noticed you were a little upset by what Doctor Gibbs said at dinner today." He waited for a response, but his son simply blinked at him with a non-committal gaze. "Well, just in case you might be wondering," he continued, "it's not always easy knowing  what is real and what is not." He tucked the covers more tightly around the boy hoping he would feel safe enough to express his doubts.

Silence.

 

"I guess figuring out what is real and not real is one way we grow.  It isn't always easy, but there are a few tools that help us separate real from pretend." Wisely, his Dad waited until the boy's curiosity got the best of him.

 

"Tools?" 

 

"Yeah. Tools" his Dad settled on the bed next to him. "I've found a couple of tools that work. Want to hear about them?"

 

The small head slowly nodded.

 

"One tool is listening to people I can trust. Folks who are wiser and can tell me what they think about real and pretend. Another tool is  learning what the Bible has to say." There was no comment from the bed, but at least he had his son's attention. "Kadyn, God has gifted you with a brilliant mind and strong musical talent, but learning what is real and what is not often takes time. Don't worry too much when you can't get it figured out instantly. That's normal."

 

The only response was silence so with a quick kiss and final hug his Dad turned to leave.

 

"Does the Bible say angels can't sing?" The voice behind him was small.

 

He walked back and tousled his son's dark hair. "Well, it never says they can sing. Maybe singing is something only people do. But, then it never says they couldn't sing if they wanted to. I guess we will just have to wait until we get to heaven before we find out for certain. In the mean time, just remember to use your "tools" of trust and the the Bible. Real and not real will separate themselves in time."

 

It was a long time before sleep forced Kadyn to stop thinking. Perhaps growing up was going to be more complicated than it looked.

 

Two more weeks passed and the fateful night of the concert came at last. Kadyn  dutifully struggled into the elf costume--complete with pointed ears--and took his place behind the curtain and in front of the cardboard Santa's workshop. He could hear the pat and shuffle of feet as little girls dressed like snowflakes performed the last number and the orchestra fell silent.

 

Slowly, the curtain majestically rose and a spotlight temporarily  blinded him. Kadyn stretched his small fingers wide and thought a silent prayer.

 

"Jesus, I know there is no Santa and maybe angels can't even sing. But, I trust my Dad and I trust what I feel inside. Please, listen to my song  tonight 'cause if angels don't sing to you this Christmas, I sure want to. "

 

Smooth, familiar notes filled the air. Silent night, holy night. All is calm. All is bright. The mood of the room changed as all that was real began to glow while the fake and temporary faded in the distance.

The song ended, and yet a tiny moment of awe hung on  like the after glow of a sun just set. And, in that brief, magical space of time, a forgotten microphone picked up the barely audible voice of a little boy.

"Happy Birthday, Jesus.