A Christmas to Remember

Photo via Flickr by Nationaal Archief

    Jim and I truly had a Christmas to remember this year. And that is really saying a lot when you consider last Christmas. Jim bought me my very own private island. I haven’t visited it or anything, since I hate the hot weather, but it really is the thought that counts and he knew I always wanted one just to be able to say that I had it. Jim is always so good at getting presents, but I always struggle. Last year, I bought Jim an Indochinese tiger. He liked it enough, I guess, but I could tell that his eyes didn’t light up the way they should have. I really should’ve gotten him the Bengal tiger.

      Anyway, this year, I really wanted to challenge myself.  I’ve decided to stray away from material things and told Jim that we would give each other something from the heart, with the gift costing no more than $10,000. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Jane, that’s the craziest thing I ever heard! How are you supposed to get someone a gift they’ll love for $10,000 or less? You’re crazy!” Well, maybe I am, but I want to be able to show my husband that I can buy him a nice, modest, thoughtful gift.

     Since the stores in which I usually shop do not carry any items within my price range, I had to venture out of town into the poor area. It was truly awful. I passed by those million dollar homes with tears in my eyes. I couldn’t imagine how these people were able to live like this. Only seven bathrooms? Only one tennis court? How could a family use a house the size of our guesthouse as their primary residence? The thought of it made me sick. But, I told myself, “Jane, there are people in the world less fortunate than you, but you can’t do anything about it. That’s the way the world works, and you should be lucky to have risen above all of these squalor-like twelve bedroom homes.”

     All of this poverty put me in a simply awful mood. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like shopping in this town. The thought of having to walk through the same stores as these people was truly heartbreaking. I couldn’t bring myself to stop, so I had my driver keep driving.

     I was not prepared for what I saw next. The town we drove through consisted of shack-sized homes that couldn’t have had more than four bedrooms each. I was at a loss for words. I had no idea that people could live in such squalor. When I gasped in horror, my driver told me that we were in a “middle class” neighborhood. I couldn’t possibly imagine that there were lower levels of poverty.

      We passed what my driver described to me as a “strip mall” consisting of wretched looking places called “Wal-Mart” and “Target.” The people entering these stores wore jeans and sweatshirts. Yes, you heard me right, jeans and sweatshirts. Oh, and it gets worse. It wasn’t just the men, but the women were wearing them too. I had my driver stop in the parking lot so I could observe these people more carefully. I made sure my door was safely locked, people who shop at these places must be complete animals who would have no problem opening up my door an stealing one of the seven diamond necklaces hanging from my neck. From the safety of my locked vehicle, I found it was truly fascinating to watch these people. They were so self-sufficient. They drove their own cars, had no servants, and walked on their own legs! I haven’t walked outdoors in years; it’s much too strenuous.

       At this point, I realized that I had been spending too much time worrying about what to get Jim. Jim has everything he’s ever wanted, and the people at this awful Target place didn’t even know how to really live. They think this town is life, but they haven’t even flown to Dubai with their spouses in individual private jets with their names written on the outside or experienced the joy of whipping a servant when he puts too much caviar on your plate after you’ve told him a thousand times that you are on a diet and that you would not tolerate any more than a third of a spoonful of caviar on your plate. Maybe I could help. Maybe I could show one of these people how to really live. I needed to buy them things so that they understood how miserable they’ve been for their entire lives. Isn’t that what Christmas is all about?

     Jim and I have always been incredibly generous. We are by far the most philanthropic of our social group. Just last spring, we built a school for a bunch of filthy Guatemalan children. Unfortunately, our generosity was eclipsed when the school collapsed and killed the children. The media had a field day with that one. They wouldn’t stop hounding us, and picking on us. We helped give the gift of education to children who would’ve grown up to eat dirt, but the media didn’t care about that. They only cared about the deaths. Jim and I decided to lay low after that incident. The world didn’t appreciate us. Forget about those dead kids, we were the real victims.

     As I sat in my car in that strip mall parking lot, I knew I had the opportunity to change things. Jim and I were wonderful selfless people, but everyone though we were a couple of child killers. Christmas would provide the perfect time to prove everyone wrong. This would be a Christmas to remember, not just for us, but also for the rest of the world. Everyone would witness the Rogers’ heartfelt giving nature and weep tears of joy. Once New Year’s came, the world would bow at our presence once they finally realized that Jim and I were the most generous people in the world.

     I searched the crowd diligently hoping to find the right person to be the receiver of the most wonderful Christmas anyone would ever have. This would be no easy task. I viewed an overweight middle-aged woman in a Disney World sweatshirt and considered her. However, I decided that I didn’t want any overweight people in my home (they would eat all of our food and surely make a mess in the bathroom). We kept driving slowly and I saw it. The thing that would forever change mine and Jim’s status, elevating us far above the rest. It was a homeless thing and it reeked of possibility and urine.

     This particular homeless thing was sitting outside of the Target with a metal can. As people walked by they dispensed small circular pieces of metal.  I had no idea what those pieces of metal were or how they would help the thing, but I knew what it really needed was to come stay with Jim and I for Christmas. I instructed my driver to exit the car and bludgeon it. Once it was secured in the trunk of the car, we headed back home so that I could change its life forever. Through its muffled pleas for help, I could sense its gratitude and appreciation.

       At this point, it is important that I stress what happened next is of no fault of my own. I’ve clearly explained that I simply had the best of intentions. It was not my fault that the homeless thing began screaming as it was released from the trunk. It was clearly an animal-like creature who didn’t realize I was about to change his life. It kept screaming that I was a crazy kidnapper! Can you believe it? Here I was, about to help, and this homeless thing was yelling at me. Talk about ungrateful! If anything, this made me even more willing to help him. Once I did, it would realize how wrong it was and would have to apologize to me, and maybe then I would forgive it. Maybe.

     For the time being, I had my staff tie the thing up, so that it couldn’t hurt me. It was practically an animal, and I simply couldn’t let it wander around the house. The homeless thing would be locked up in the stables until I figured out what to do with it. It took me a few days, but I finally decided that I would let this homeless thing be part of my staff. It would live its life in service to me, and for the life it’s had up to now, I couldn’t imagine a better way to live than to be the personal assistant to one of my prized horses. Of course, I couldn’t provide it with a place to stay. We’re already fully staffed, and I can’t have any more servants living on my property. I told myself that the gift of employment would be enough for the homeless thing. Well, not necessarily employment, you see. I simply could not pay it after it had lashed out at me once it was released from the trunk. I will not be giving away my husband’s hard earned trust fund money to something so vicious and cruel, not in this lifetime, that’s for sure. So this ungrateful homeless thing, while technically remaining homeless, would get to be my servant. Surely that would be enough to secure my status as the wonderful, generous person that I truly am. Jim would be so proud of me once he got home from his trip to the Bahamas with his mistress.

      I went out to the stables to alert my new servant of the wonderful life that lay in front of it. I knew it would want nothing more than to serve me, and I was more than happy to let it as long as I never had to see it ever again. Once I reached the stables, I parked my Segway and pulled open the door. The stench was particularly worse than usual. I walked in and saw the homeless thing tied up right where my butler told me he would be. I announced my presence and when it did not stir, I knew something must be terribly wrong. Whenever I enter a room, it is required that everyone stands and keeps their eyes on me. I moved closer to the homeless thing, and announced myself even louder. It did not stir.

     I stood next to him, and I simply could not handle the smell. I covered my face and tapped my ruby encrusted boots against his side. He did not move. Then I realized that my staff had made a terrible mistake. They had not fed this homeless thing in the week that it’s been tied up in these stables. I specifically told them not to feed it or I would fire them, but at the time I was still mad at the thing and figured that since it was homeless, it wasn’t used to food or water anyway. Perhaps that was wrong on my part, I remembered that food and water are necessary for life. This homeless thing was dead, and now I had to do something about it.

      I instructed one of my lower level butlers to fetch a shovel and bury the homeless thing. I watched, and once it was buried, I removed my diamond pistol from my emerald purse and shot the butler. The homeless thing was dead and buried and no one could know, not even the butler. Jim and I had been through enough with the Guatemalans, and I wasn’t about to be persecuted again for something that wasn’t my fault. I really tried this Christmas, and the fact that two non-person things were dead was not my fault. I offered the homeless thing a better life, even though the thing was mean and ungrateful to me. What more could I do? I’m only one person! The fact that it died from lack of food or water has nothing to do with me. I could have easily fired my entire staff for what they had done to the homeless thing, but instead I took matters into my own hands. I dragged the butler’s dead body into the woods and kicked a few leaves over the body. It was the most exhausting physical exertion I had ever experienced, and I did it all in the name of Christmas. I had truly changed lives this Christmas, but unfortunately the only person that could ever know about it was myself.