Devonne Brown

I begged for a guitar for Christmas. I got down on my knees in supplication to Mom one Saturday morn when the snow was knee deep outside, I remember. That’s all she heard that year. I did every chore she gave me with glee, on the outside at least, three quarters my best instead of my usual half-assed jobs. It was impressive too, she was so delighted with my fifteen year old efforts she didn’t even go behind me and redo them. She didn’t even rehang the icicles on the tree. Those had to be flicked, pulled, and draped, one by one. Flicked, pulled, and draped, even on the back of the tree. 

I did the laundry. Washer, dryer, fold and put away. That’s when I found it. Behind Mom’s bedroom door. The case stood proud. I walked over to touch it and heard the faint bing, like a bell of the strings as it hit the wall of its enclosure. I thought I would die of impatience. A week to go until Christmas. 

I upped my angel game. More chores, more good kid. I’d get that thing on Christmas Eve for sure. No waiting until Christmas morning for me. We were allowed to open one present after we returned from Mommaw’s house on Christmas Eve. I’d have been so perfect, they’d have no choice but to give it to me early. Mommy’s Angel, the pet name she gave me when I wanted out of my crib when I was a baby. I’d pull myself up and cry out “Mommy’s Angel, Mommy’s Angel.” Mommy’s Angel rose high that year. I made my siblings look like fools. Ha ha. Mommy’s Angel indeed.

The Eve of Christmas had come and we were allowed one gift to open. The guitar was nowhere to be seen. Had I hallucinated? Had I conjured it in my yearning mind? Did they take it back? They gave me a box with a pretty bow that contained a flannel nightgown. It might as well have been a potato for all I cared. I pasted on a smile, put on my nightgown, and went to bed. My disappointment was as thick as the mashed potatoes we were going to have for Christmas dinner.

But, under the tree the next morning, shining bright, was the thing of my dreams. A six string guitar. Everything was right with the world.