twenty four | year three

christmas eve always makes me think of m.f.g.

it was december of 1990 and we went to midnight mass with his family. as he drove me home later that night, we detoured through a few neighborhoods to take in the christmas lights and the holiday decorations.  snow had fallen earlier that day and the world was soft and white and beautiful.

we stopped at a convenience store, and he left me in the car with the heat running as he picked up a pack of cigarettes.  through the window, i saw him talking to a woman in the store and he turned and walked out with her.  i didn’t realize what was happening at first, but as i saw him pulling the jack out of the trunk i realized that she had a flat tire and m.f.g. was going to change it for her.  on christmas eve.  in the snow.

he didn’t give it a second thought.  he asked the woman to wait in the warmth of the store as he replaced her tire in the cold night air.  when he finished, she offered him money, which he refused, and so she gave him a big hug and mouthed a ‘thank you’ to me through the window.  i smiled and waved to her and said, ‘merry christmas.’

she nodded back.  m.f.g. got back into the car, lit a cigarette, and drove me home.  hand in hand, we sung along to the carols on the radio and as the snow started to fall, i fell in love with him and with that night.

there are many selfless acts that go unrecognized in the world.  that one stays with me.  i can’t help but think about it every christmas eve.


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