Happy St. Nicholas Day!

"I am so sorry to have failed you, beloved daughter," Emre said with tears in his eyes to his eldest daughter Meryem.

"I will be fine, father," she replied stoically, though inside she felt a chill that matched the cold, dark air seeping through the thin walls. Their small shack on the outskirts of Istanbul provided poor shelter. "Maybe I will be purchased by someone kind."

"I have spent the last of our money, even your dowry, on food. We have no means for finding you a husband." Emre began coughing, a cough that sounded nearly like crying. Because their father was usually a proud man of few words, Meryem and her sisters, Yeter and Simge, were surprised and confused by his unusual display of emotion. Meryem had been aware of her fate for months now. She helped her mother in every aspect of keeping their home; trips to the market, preparing their meager meals, sewing clothes. She knew her mother spent money frugally and still they didn't have enough for the bare essentials.

Emre coughed a deep, harsh cough that left him gasping for breath. "Emre, you must calm yourself. Please. Please rest," his wife, Umut, pleaded.

"Mama, will father ever be well, again?" Simge asked with fear in her little voice.

"Hush now, Simge. Of course he will."

"It's been so long, though."

"Simge. Enough. Bring your father some hot tea," Umut said sternly to her youngest child.

As Simge busied herself making the tea, Umut wished she could speak privately with her husband. But the cold air kept them close near the fire in their home's one small room. She settled for quietly contemplating their circumstances. Umut had been sick for two years. They had prayed daily that Emre would be healed, but instead they slowly sold their belongings simply to stay alive. Meryem should have married last year, but they had spent her dowry on doctors and medicine, planning to bring Emre back to health and replenish the dowry.

When Meryem was a baby Umut had observed several poor families selling their daughters into slavery. When they could not provide adequate dowries to attract husbands, even poor husbands, selling daughters was their fourth century Turkish response. At the time Umut was astonished and revolted that those women could so easily give away their children to selfishly keep themselves alive. Now faced with their same predicament, she knew that they, like she, would have starved themselves to keep their oldest daughters. But they, like she, had other children to consider. Custom and circumstances collided, leaving her to make an unthinkable decision.

Determined to make this last evening as normal as possible to avoid alarming Simge and Yeter, Umut said, "Girls, prepare our mats for the night. Meryem, help me heat the rocks to keep us warm." In her heart she prayed, "Lord, You know we love you. Please send us a miracle."

As the poor family slept close together for warmth through their last night with Meryem, a young wealthy man awoke abruptly, burdened to pray for them from his stately home. Nicholas had been aware of their dire situation for a week and earlier in the day had learned that they intended to sell Meryem the next afternoon. "Lord, this is wrong. So wrong. Please help this poor family. Send someone to rescue them." Something stirred in Nicholas' spirit, something uncomfortable. Disquieting. "Lord?"

He continued praying, concluding with rote prayers. Unable to return to sleep, he walked discontentedly to the kitchen to fix himself a midnight snack.

As he stood at the counter eating crusty bread and olive oil, Nicholas' spirit stirred again. "Yes, Lord?"

I am sending someone to Emre's family.

"Thank you, Lord," Nicholas replied, yet still his spirit grieved. Continuing to crunch his bread and look around his lofty home, his eye rested on a small bag of gold coins he had brought in from his day's work.

I am sending you.

Suddenly Nicholas understood. Quickly he put on his warmest cloak and awakened his servant to saddle his horse. He bundled the small bag of coins next to his chest, feeling their coldness through the cloth, and rode through the moonlit darkness. The frigid air filtered through his clothes before he had ridden one mile, but his spirit warmed him. "Thank you, Lord."

When Nicholas neared Emre's house, he dismounted and tied his horse to a small cypress tree. Walking to the shack, Nicholas became uncomfortably aware of the difference between the hovel and his own home. "What now, Lord?"

The window.

"But surely it's latched against this cold."

The window.

Knowing better than to argue with God, Nicholas pushed against the window. After it quietly opened, Nicholas dropped the small bag of coins to the floor inside. Afraid that the jingle of the coins would awaken the family, Nicholas ran to his horse, mounted it hastily and hurried home.

The next morning Umut awoke earlier than usual and quietly restarted the fire, hoping to warm the room without waking her family. Soon she heard muffled sobs. "Meryem?" she whispered.

"Oh mama, I'm sorry."

"Hush child. Come over here. Let's not awaken the others just yet." They moved to two chairs sitting near the window. As they sat down Meryem asked, "What is this mother?" Reaching down, she grasped the small bag, heavy for it's size.

"I don't know. Hand it to me."

Taking the bag, Umut loosened the drawstring and peered inside. Tears sprang to her eyes.

Startled, Meryem asked, "What's wrong? What is it?"

Umut dumped the contents of the bag into her lap, the coins jingling loudly and reflecting the small fire's light. She paused, looked Meryem in the eye and replied, "It's an answer to prayer."


©2007. All Rights Reserved
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Above is my own version of the legend of St. Nicholas (the original Santa Claus), whose feast day in the Catholic church is today, December 6. Legend has it that Nicholas did the same for the other two sisters. I thought my story had gone on long enough, though, so poor Yeter and Simge kinda got left hanging.

We celebrated St. Nicholas Day this morning as I said we would. We set the table with my grandma's china and sterling silver. The girls awoke to each find a small stocking stuffed with 5 shiny, gold $1 coins and a Rubik's cube. Hannah received a Charlotte's Web DVD (no Rubik's cube for her). We couldn't find my camera (big surprise) so we shot some footage with the camcorder Carl received for his birthday. BIG mistake. I have no pictures. None. The camcorder died ten seconds into recording.

That all (except the lost camera part) sounds idyllic, doesn't it? Well...I'll tell you the story behind the story in another post.

Happy St. Nicholas Day!