A Walk to Remember

“Ah . . . you’re here,” he said happily. “We’ve been waiting for you. C’mon, I’ll take you to where everyone is.”

He led me down the hall to the rec room, the same place I’d been before. I paused for just a moment to exhale deeply before finally heading in.

It was even better than I’d imagined.

In the center of the room I saw a giant tree, decorated with tinsel and colored lights and a hundred different handmade ornaments. Beneath the tree, spread in all directions, were wrapped gifts of every size and shape. They were piled high, and the children were on the floor, sitting close together in a large semicircle. They were dressed in their best clothes, I assumed—the boys wore navy blue slacks and white collared shirts, while the girls had on navy skirts and long-sleeved blouses. They all looked as if they’d cleaned up before the big event, and most of the boys had had their hair cut.

On the table beside the door, there was a bowl of punch and platters of cookies, shaped like Christmas trees and sprinkled with green sugar. I could see some adults sitting with the children; a few of the smaller kids were sitting on the adults’ laps, their faces rapt with attention as they listened to “ ’Twas the Night Before Christmas.”

I didn’t see Jamie, though, at least not right off the bat. It was her voice that I recognized first. She was the one reading the story, and I finally located her. She was sitting on the floor in front of the tree with her legs bent beneath her.

To my surprise, I saw that tonight her hair hung loosely, just as it had the night of the play. Instead of the old brown cardigan I’d seen so many times, she was wearing a red V-neck sweater that somehow accentuated the color of her light blue eyes. Even without sparkles in her hair or a long white flowing dress, the sight of her was arresting. Without even noticing it, I’d been holding my breath, and I could see Mr. Jenkins smiling at me out of the corner of my eye. I exhaled and smiled, trying to regain control.

Jamie paused only once to look up from the story. She noticed me standing in the doorway, then went back to reading to the children. It took her another minute or so to finish, and when she did, she stood up and smoothed her skirt, then walked around the children to make her way toward me. Not knowing where she wanted me to go, I stayed where I was.

By then Mr. Jenkins had slipped away.

“I’m sorry we started without you,” she said when she finally reached me, “but the kids were just so excited.”

“It’s okay,” I said, smiling, thinking how nice she looked.

“I’m so glad you could come.”

“So am I.”

Jamie smiled and reached for my hand to lead the way. “C’mon with me,” she said. “Help me hand out the gifts.”

We spent the next hour doing just that, and we watched as the children opened them one by one. Jamie had shopped all over town, picking up a few things for each child in the room, individual gifts that they’d never received before. The gifts that Jamie bought weren’t the only ones the children received, however—both the orphanage and the people who worked there had bought some things as well. As paper was tossed around the room in excited frenzy, there were squeals of delight everywhere. To me, at least, it seemed that all of the children had received far more than they’d expected, and they kept thanking Jamie over and over.

By the time the dust had finally settled and all the children’s gifts were opened, the atmosphere began to calm down. The room was tidied up by Mr. Jenkins and a woman I’d never met, and some of the smaller children were beginning to fall asleep beneath the tree. Some of the older ones had already gone back to their rooms with their gifts, and they’d dimmed the overhead lights on the way out the door. The tree lights cast an ethereal glow as “Silent Night” played softly on a phonograph that had been set up in the corner. I was still sitting on the floor next to Jamie, who was holding a young girl who’d fallen asleep in her lap. Because of all the commotion, we hadn’t really had a chance to talk, not that either of us had minded. We were both gazing up at the lights on the tree, and I wondered what Jamie was thinking. If truth be told, I didn’t know, but she had a tender look about her. I thought—no, I knew—she was pleased with how the evening had gone, and deep down, so was I. To this point it was the best Christmas Eve I’d ever spent.

I glanced at her. With the lights glowing on her face, she looked as pretty as anyone I’d ever seen.

“I bought you something,” I finally said to her. “A gift, I mean.” I spoke softly so I wouldn’t wake the little girl, and I hoped it would hide the nervousness in my voice.

She turned from the tree to face me, smiling softly. “You didn’t have to do that.” She kept her voice low, too, and it sounded almost musical.

“I know,” I said. “But I wanted to.” I’d kept the gift off to one side, and I reached for it, handing the gift-wrapped package to her.

“Could you open it for me? My hands are kind of full right now.” She looked down at the little girl, then back to me.

“You don’t have to open it now, if you’d rather not,” I said, shrugging, “it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I would only open it in front of you.”

To clear my mind, I looked at the gift and started opening it, picking at the tape so that it wouldn’t make much noise, then unwrapping the paper until I reached the box. After setting the paper off to the side, I lifted the cover and pulled out the sweater, holding it up to show her. It was brown, like the ones she usually wore. But I figured she could use a new one.

Compared with the joy I’d seen earlier, I didn’t expect much of a reaction.

“See, that’s all. I told you it wasn’t much,” I said. I hoped she wasn’t disappointed in it.

“It’s beautiful, Landon,” she said earnestly. “I’ll wear it the next time I see you. Thank you.”

We sat quietly for a moment, and once again I began to look at the lights.

“I brought you something, too,” Jamie finally whispered. She looked toward the tree, and my eyes followed her gaze. Her gift was still beneath the tree, partially hidden by the stand, and I reached for it. It was rectangular, flexible, and a little heavy. I brought it to my lap and held it there without even trying to open it.