Christmas Hampers

Christmas Hampers

Sitting in our car, laughing and chatting, Angie and I waited to collect our hampers in what seemed like an endless queue of cars. We had no idea what lay ahead.

After about twenty minutes, we were directed into the Football Grounds with paperwork ready. People everywhere. I couldn’t believe the number of volunteers, their vibrant energy, and so many young people giving their time to support this Christian charity. Islander men, rotund and jovial, young girls wearing Christmas tee-shirts, their hair adorned with tinsel headpieces, all buzzing around. Everyone seemed to have a job, directing us to our pickup point.

‘Such incredible organisation.’ I looked over to my driver, who grinned.

‘Yes, it was like this last time I delivered hampers, amazing, isn’t it?’ Angie shuffled forward in the queue. ‘Let’s get some photos as they load the hampers into my boot.’

‘See you at the Dinner Dance,’ I said, as Angie took a photo of me with a young hunk wearing a Santa hat.

‘Sure will. I’m there every year.’

As we headed out of the grounds, I looked over to my friend, ‘I’m blown away, so many giving their time on Christmas Eve.’

What an amazing organisation. A pang of pride ran through my body as we weaved through the streets of West End. We were on a mission.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of a grotty looking group of townhouses in Coopers Plains. I jumped out of the car to search for Apartment No. 1. Angie followed close behind, with a fruit platter.

I knocked on the wire screen. ‘Who is it?’ A woman’s voice called out.

‘We’re looking for Bill. Here to deliver some hampers.’

A dishevelled woman, thin of stature, with bleary eyes and her hair tied back, appeared at the door. A stale smell of smoke wafted up my nostrils as she peered at us.

‘He’s gone.’

‘Oh really. Does he live here?

‘Nope, I think he’s in jail. This is my place.’ Plants, hungry for water, adorned the entrance in an endeavour to create a welcoming atmosphere. At least she’s tried, I thought.

Umm, what a dilemma. Do we leave the hampers with Kelly?

I rang the only number I could see on the delivery sheet. Yes, the whole process was highly organised, even had a QR code as proof of delivery. The woman, obviously one of the management team, suggested we leave the hampers with the resident. I relayed the message to Angie. She struggled up the driveway with the heavy food hamper, placing it at the front door.

‘We’d like to give you these hampers, Kelly.’ Her face lit up like the Christmas lights adorning all the houses at this time of year. Her two front teeth missing, she exuded a sense of neglect, one shoe on and one off, tattoos adorning one arm, a patchwork quilt on her skinny legs. My heart went out to her.

‘I’m destitute. My mobile has been cut off, I’m here all alone, hoping he doesn’t come back. He took most of his clothes, but there are a few things left here.’

‘Leave them at the front door,’ I smiled, compassion oozing from every pore of my body.

‘Huh, they won’t last long here, she laughed.

‘Oh well. Don’t let anyone in, then.’

She threw her arms around me, hugging my body so profusely that I nearly lost my balance while Angie’s busy taking photos, including a couple of selfies.

‘You two are so kind. You don’t know how much this means to me,’ she wept. ‘I thank God for your generosity of spirit.’

‘Happy Christmas, Kelly. Enjoy.’

We drove off, gobsmacked.

‘Well, that was an unexpected adventure,’ Angie’s eyes twinkling, her voice demure, ‘where to next?’

As the red lights flashed and the gate came down in front of us, we waited for the train to pass, both stunned by our recent encounter. When the gates went up, Angie proceeded across the railway lines, never giving a thought to wait for the green light. Perhaps she was still reeling from poor Kelly. In her rear-view mirror, she noticed that all the other cars remained stationary in the queue.

‘Whoops. Lucky no trains were coming.’ My chest heaved a huge sigh of relief. ‘Mustn’t be our time to leave the planet.’

Giggling, Angie nodded. ‘This is an exciting escapade. I thought we were just dropping off a couple of hampers. Now we’re thwarting death on the railway tracks.’

Our trusty Google Maps guided us to a street nearby. Next stop, another ramshackle house, with engine parts, oil containers and tools spread all over the concrete entrance. To one side, a beautiful garden of tropical plants appeared incongruous with the state of neglect. A large dog, which seemed quiet and lazy, wandered over to the gate, but neither of us was taking a chance.

‘I’ll ring Matilda and tell her we’re here.’

A woman answered, no idea if she was expecting us. She told me she’d tell her daughter we were outside.

We waited, and we waited, and we waited. No sign of anyone.

‘Her daughter must still be in bed. What to do?’

I rang Matilda again; this time it went to the message bank. My mind ran wild with all sorts of conspiracy theories. Angie and I looked at each other, bewildered, the hampers still in the car.

After a comedy of errors, the boss lady rang me. Well, guess what, I had sent my SMS to the wrong mobile number. She instructed me to open the gate and leave the hampers inside. Not likely, we felt too uncomfortable.

I decided to send an SMS to Matilda’s correct mobile number. No reply. A few moments later, to our surprise, a young girl wanders out to the gate.

‘Hello, we’re from the Baptist Church,’ Angie smiles from ear to ear. ‘We’re here to give you these hampers, but we didn’t know about your dog.’

‘Oh, he’s fine.’

‘What’s your name? I asked.

‘Violet. I’m not Matilda’s real daughter. She’s out. I live here, though. Been here for a year now.’

‘Oh really?’

‘Yes, I can’t live at home, so Matilda is very kind to me, and I want to stay here.’

‘Domestic violence?’ She nodded, her head drooping, her breathing deepened.

‘How old are you?’

‘Sixteen.’

‘Still at school?’ Always one for an inquisition, Angie looked on.

‘Nope, can’t go to school either, problems there too. I’m going to go to TAFE next year.’

‘That sounds like a great idea,’ Angie’s eyes met Violet’s with such compassion.

‘Yep, I want to study acting. Or maybe something to do with food, as I like cooking.’

I suggested the latter would give her more opportunities. She nodded, thanking us both.

We headed towards our car when Violet called out to us. We turned on our heels.

Her face beamed. ‘You two are so beautiful.’

A special day of giving for both of us.