Charlie would stand as long as his mother would allow looking at the collection of Christmas village houses in the window of Kramer’s department store. Not much calmed his overwhelming autism induced spells, but this certainly did without fail. Camille Hardy wished she could buy what her son saw so she could take it to their home, but a single mother working two jobs just barely was able to scrape by these days. Instead she pulled him away from his fascination and into a nearby thrift store.
Christmas for Charlie was always hard. She never was able to ask him what he wanted because he could not tell her. She knew the untouchable collection of his desire would be his dream, but the four pieces they brought home would have to suffice.
Camille pulled her robe tighter as she made her way from the kitchen the next morning to start Charlie’s seventh Christmas. She saw him playing happily on a nearby table. Tears began to run down her cheek when she heard him singing his favorite Christmas tune. On the table his four new pieces plus an angel tree topper were arranged just right.
Charlie turned and smiled as Camille approached. Christmas was here!
For Sunday photo Fiction from Al