Christmas Fog:

It was a cold day in the city. It was Christmas time and there was a gentle mist that settled on the streets and a fog that infiltrated the air surrounding the buildings. The mother had fallen asleep only for a moment; the stress of having two jobs to raise her small son finally getting to her. She thought it would be alright, since she had placed the boy in his crib and had just fed him if she just close her eyes for a couple of minutes. She fell asleep with the newspaper open on her lap. A Christmas tree glistened in the corner of the room. And as she gently lay her head back on the headrest of the chair in which she sat, the boy in the other room began to stir. He was young but old enough to walk. He had never escaped his crib in the past but today was different. The boy had to use the toilet and so, standing up, he limberly pulled himself over the edge of the crib and found himself resting on the mattress next to it. With a quiet jump, he landed on the carpeted ground below him. He tip-toed out of the room in which his mother had left him and quietly pushed aside the restroom door. When he finished, he closed the door behind him and flushed the toilet. Conscious was he to not wake his mother. It was almost as though he were aware on some level of how much she needed to sleep. He drew the door open again and crept out into the hall and returned to the room with his crib in it. When he entered, he saw the window. The air outside was not like it ever had been. It was thick, hard to see through. On the ledge of the window were Christmas lights arranged along the string that had been stapled to the frame. He was intrigued by the lights and by the air outside. And so, he moved cautiously toward the window and unlatched it as he had seen his mother do in the past. He pushed up on the window with all of his strength until it opened. Again, with caution and excitement, the boy peered out the window first, on the right and then to his left. On the left, along the ledge outside was a little, lighted snowman. And next to it, was a lighted Santa. Thoughts raced through the boy’s mind as he saw this beloved figure. He ducked his head back into the apartment as he considered carefully what he was witnessing. He had so much he wanted to tell Santa. Had he received the letter that his mother prepared for him and sent to the North Pole? He reflected somberly to a moment weeks earlier when his mother had brought him to a big building with a lot of stores. She pushed him along the halls until they came to a big, snowy place. One with candy canes and elves and a little gingerbread house. Santa! The boy reminisced. He remembered quickly that the line up to see Santa was so long, his mother didn’t have time for him to see him. The boy then climbed out of the window and stood with his back against the wall. Though, it seemed like solid ground in front of him because of the fog, the boy sensed immediately that something was wrong. In spite of this feeling in his gut, he moved slowly along the ledge. He wanted so much to see Santa. Until, he found himself a couple of steps out from his window. Again, he looked down and saw through the ground. The fog let up a little here. He saw the street three floors below. The feeling in his tummy intensified and his knees began to shake. 

In the meantime, there were passersby walking along the street. The street was dark and the fog was lighter near the ground. One of these passersby, a young police officer was sipping a cup of coffee. He was in uniform and just waiting outside the store under the apartment building as his partner shopped inside. All of a sudden, there was a gentle shriek above him. He thought nothing of it at first until the shriek grew. He stepped back and looked about him. Then he glanced up. And through a crease in the fog, along the apartment building ledge, a little boy was standing with his back against the wall, along the ledge of the apartment building. He stood between two lighted windows. The light emanated through the fog. The police officer thought quickly and assessed the wall of the building. Without a second thought, he sprinted to the wall and climbed up a light post next to it. From there, he clung to the window ledge of the second floor and then climbed up briskly the drain pipe along the side of the building. When he reached the third floor, he used the ledge to pull himself into the window from which the boy had exited. From the window, the police officer reached his arm out and summoned and called to the boy. He seemed to have been paralyzed in fear. The police officer summoned his strength and pulled himself out of the window, walking along the wall with his back tight against the brick behind him. When he reached the boy, he reached out of hand and held the boy’s hand. He pulled across his other arm and held the boy and with all of strength, pulled the boy to the other side of him along the ledge. The boy screamed. Suddenly, there was another scream. It came from the window. The boy’s mother peered out and started crying. The police officer led the boy step by step toward the window. He had to push the boy because he was so scared. When the boy was near the window, his mother reached out and grabbed him. As she grabbed him, she pushed the police officer’s hand unintentionally. The push threw him off balance a bit and he teetered for a moment, until he lost his footing and fell from the ledge. He landed on his feet, three stories below. He cried out in pain. His partner ran to his aid and called an ambulance. 

In the apartment, the mother hugged her son and wouldn’t let him go. Slowly, she realized what had happened to the man who had saved her son. She looked out of the window and panicked. She grabbed her son’s hand and descended the stairs of the apartment building as quickly as she could. Then, flinging the front doors open, she went next to the man on the ground and kneeling, started to cry. The policeman, conscious, asked her, “Is the boy alright?” She released a quick huff of air and held out her hand to the boy. The boy walked over shyly. When the police officer saw him, he also started to cry. They were tears of joy. “Thank you.” The mother said. “Thank you,” the boy said softly. 

A week later, the police officer was just getting out of the hospital. He had broken a leg in the fall and was still in a wheelchair. When they turned onto his street, he noticed a great number of cars lined along the curb. He was being pushed by a nurse behind him to his front door. When she reached in front of him to open the door, he heard scratching from the inside. When the door opened, he was greeted with the sound of cheers and applause. There were gifts lined along the walls of the house and all of his friends, his partner were there. And there, in the corner of his home, were the mother and her boy. When the boy saw the police officer, he ran towards him and reached up his arms beside the wheelchair. The police officer hugged him. His mother approached and smiled. - From my Book Fables of Good Will.