he sky has been

uniformly cloudy, and

temperatures havent
nosed above the freezing
mark in over a week, but
there has been very little
snow so far this season
around Yellow Springs,
the Conestoga County village known to
historians everywhere as the
Cornerstone of Colonial America.
Strong gusting winds have sent folks
scurrying over to Felix Flegelhoffers
Fair Value looking for insulation to seal
door and window gaps. Its been so windy that Mayor
Harmon Himmelglump ordered the ornamental Christmas
wreaths and evergreen bunting removed from the downtown
lamp posts before they all blew away.
Oliver Oxthorn braved the gale to make his annual trek to
the Yellow Springs Animal Shelter, where he slipped an
envelope with a bank check into the mail slot. His annual
sizable donation is supposed to be anonymous, but everyone
there knows whose money it is that provides food and medical
care for the orphaned or mistreated residents. He made a
similar visit to the countys Children and Youth Services
office, where his secret donation is used to buy presents for
foster children.

The blustery weather reminded Oliver of the Christmas

season when he was eight years old. Oliver was the only child
born unto Orson and Eunice Oxthorn, who lived in a three
story Victorian home out in the midst of farm country. Three
score and ten Christmases have passed since that fateful
holiday season, but to Oliver, the memory is a fresh as the
taste of this mornings coffee. You see, that was the year
Shamona arrived.

Bill Kennedy

Oliver could tell something was in the air that season. His
mother was healthy for the first time in almost a year. She had

1995 William D. Kennedy 41 Birch Road Malvern PA 19355 (610) 695-9419 kennedyw@whiteandwilliams.com

been very sick the previous summer, much like she had been
ill the previous winter. It would be years before Oliver
learned that his mother had miscarried. As the leaves turned
and fell that year, Oliver had noticed his parents talking
privately a lot more than usual. Sometimes he found his
parents sitting on the French couch in the parlor, talking in
concerned, hushed tones, and they would stop and look up at
him when he came in the room unexpectedly. He would
wonder what they were talking about, but when he asked his
mother once, she laughed and hugged him and told him they
were discussing grown-up things. Oliver never thought of
asking his father. Orson Oxthorn was a master wheelwright
at the Oxthorn-Swench Wheelworks, the villages largest
industry, and he was not a vocal man. He never spoke a
sentence when a phrase or simple word would do.

girl, an orphan whom they were going to adopt. Shes going

to be your sister, Eunice said gently, hiding her annoyance
that her husband hadnt already discussed this with the boy
like he said he would.
In the days that followed, Oliver learned more about this
intrusive infant. She was an Indian -- her folks belonged to
the Leni-Lenape people. Her mother died in childbirth and
her daddy died in a mining accident shortly thereafter. She
was being tended to by the nuns at the Carlisle Indian School
until the adoption was completed.
When the baby arrived by train a few weeks before
Christmas, Oliver was cautious and reserved. He quickly
determined that the child was of no use to him at all. She
couldnt play or run or even walk, and she couldnt help with
the chores in the least. All she was good for was crying and
soiling her undergarments, which he thought she did
faithfully whenever he tried to hold her.

At Thanksgiving, Oliver learned what it was his parents

had been debating so earnestly. The roasted turkey sat stuffed
in the middle of the table as the extended family gathered
round. Oliver sat with his ancient beagle-spaniel mutt,
Nomad, sleeping soundly under his feet. With his head
bowed, eyes closed, and his hands clenched in his mothers
on one side and his Uncle Omars on the other, Oliver listened
as his father gave thanks for each person gathered, plus little
Shamona, whom he identified for the benefit of those
assembled as the baby Thou willst be giving us.

After eight years of being an only child, Oliver wasnt

keen on sharing the family spotlight. He began hanging
around the baby just to get a little attention from his parents.
He started acting out more, and consequently heard the raised
voice of his laconic father more frequently, which was not
what a child would ordinarily desire during the season when
Santa is making his final decisions about whos been naughty
and nice. As the holidays approached, things just seemed to
get worse, at least in Olivers estimation.

Olivers eyes sprang open in surprise before Orson

reached the Amen. A baby? Nobody told him about a baby.
The grown ups at the table seemed nonplused by Orsons
prayer, as if they knew what he was talking about, but Oliver
was confused. He knew his mothers belly hadnt grown large,
like his Aunt Sadies did before his cousin was born, and he
knew you cant name a baby before its born, since you dont
know ifn its a boy or a girl. So then who or what was this
Shamona?

By Christmas Eve Day, he could barely stand the little

pampered papoose. At their supper that afternoon, whenever
he thought his folks werent looking, he stuck out his tongue
and made faces at his new sister. He learned quickly that he
had not been discreet enough. Orson Oxthorn reached across
the table and grabbed Olivers arm. With a stern,
uncompromising look, he said, No! He pulled away his
sons plate and commanded, To your room!

Oliver knew better than to talk at the table -- that was

strictly forbidden, unless, of course, you were spoken to -but as soon as dinner was over, he followed his mother into
the kitchen and asked her about it. Eunice Oxthorn knelt
down on one knee and explained that Shamona was a baby

Oliver ran upstairs and slammed the bedroom door shut.

Hurt, confused, angry and uncertain, he threw himself down
onto the bed. They dont love me, he thought. They never
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PHLDMS1 4920439v.1

have. They always wanted a girl and now theyre getting one.
Its not fair!

coast was clear. Oliver slid to the lower edge of the roof. He
had jumped this height several times in the past -- but it was
always during the daytime. It seemed higher at dusk.

Oliver stewed there for a while. He thought about

challenging his discipline. He began by opening his bedroom
door and sticking his toe out into the hall. He half expected
lightning to strike through the ceiling to punish his symbolic
misdemeanor. Seeing no thunderbolts, he ventured further,
stepping out into the hall, than hopping back inside. Nah,
nah, he sang to himself, Im not in my room, Im not in my
room.

Oliver might have remained squatting there are the

corner for quite some time if he had not heard his fathers
voice inside, calling playfully to Shamona.
Come on, big girl, roll over to Daddy.
Daddy, thought Oliver. So he calls himself her
Daddy already, huh?

He toyed with the notion of marching downstairs in open

defiance to his dictatorial parents until he heard his fathers
booming baritone from the bottom of the steps. Oliver
Obidiah Oxthorn, stay in your room!

With that, Oliver found new courage. He shut his eyes,

flung himself off into the dusky mist. The cold, hard ground
rushed up to meet him faster than he expected. He felt a stab
of pain in his shoulder as he rolled on the ground. Still, this
was no time to hesitate. He began running across the back
field, toward the glow from the animal doctors fire.

Seven words strung together was Orsons equivalent of

excessive oratory, so Oliver knew his dad meant business. His
heart froze, and he quickly hopped back into his sanctuary
and shut the door with a self-incriminating slam. More upset
than ever, he slumped onto his bed. He listened to the laughs
and giggles as his parents played with Shamona downstairs.
They sounded so happy.

The trek seemed interminable. An icy blast blew his cap

off, but it was too dark to look for it. The biting night air had
stung his ears and nose, and thoughts of a warm fire pulled
him toward the veterinary shop. The flickering fire light from
the back room cast an eerie shadow across the unmowed
field, and Oliver stumbled more than once.

Oliver looked out the window. The fading sun cast long,
winter shadows. From all the way past the back of the
Oxthorn property, Oliver saw a familiar, soft orange glow. It
must be from the fireplace in the back room of the adjacent
farmhouse where Cyril Swench, the animal doctor, kept his
practice. Oliver had met the good doctor a couple of times
when Nomad was sick.

Oliver finally reached the split rail fence separating the

Oxthorn and Swench properties. He collapsed against it,
panting heavily to catch his breath. As he looked back at his
house in the distance, he shouted into the wind, Im never
going back there! Never!

His musings were interrupted when he heard a burst of

laughter from down in the living room. Oh, Shamona, I love
you so much! cried Olivers mother.

From the chilly shadows he heard a deep, gentle voice

answer, Dont be hasty, now, son. Nevers a long time.
Leaning into the fence, Olivers eyes widened to grapefruit
size. Who said that? Whos there?!? He turned and saw a
candle lantern approaching from the other side of the fence.
Is that you, Dr. Cyril? he called into the darkness.

That was it, Oliver declared. Enough was enough. If he

wasnt wanted, he wouldnt stay. He grabbed his heavy coat
and wool cap, pushed up the window sash, belly-crawled
through the gap, and eased himself on the sloped roof of the
back porch. He looked to see if anyone was watching, but the
-3PHLDMS1 4920439v.1

Oliver heard the voice say, no, then a chubby, smiling

face appeared in the candles glow. He saw a man was
dressed in a big, red winter coat, the hood of which was tied
snugly around his bearded face. Y-y-youre not Santa, are
you? Oliver asked doubtfully.

But Dr. Swench didnt condemn; he just grinned. I dont

believe that, Oliver! And I dont believe you feel that way
about her, either. I bet you play with her, and make her
laugh. I think you love her, dont you?
No, I dont, Oliver protested weakly.

Santa? the man laughed, no, but I supposed I could

stand to lose a pound or two. Extending his right hand, he
announced, Im Dr. Simon Swench, Dr. Cyrils father.

Yes, you do. But you know what? I think youre worried
about how different things will be with a little sister around.
Am I right?

The kind gentleman explained that Dr. Cyril and his

family were in town attending Christmas Eve services at the
Methodical church. I came over to tend to the animals.
Weve got a real sick pup inside. I ought to be getting back to
her. Then he added, You know, you shouldnt be outside in
the cold on a night like this. Why dont you come on inside
with me? Ive got a fire going in the back room.

Oliver bit into that like a hungry bear in spring. Yeah -now theres all kinds of baby junk everywhere!
Uh huh, Dr. Swench encouraged him.
And, and theres her bedroom upstairs that used to be the
sewing room where I could play when Mommy made dresses
and stuff, and now I cant because its Samoans room.

Oliver followed him inside. Dr. Swench said nothing until

they had shut the door behind them. As he placed another log
on the fire, he said casually, You know what Im doing here,
but I dont know what youre doing out tonight.

I see.
The misunderstood jealousy of an eight year old came
pouring out of Olivers mouth. I wish shed just go back to
her own family!

It wasnt a question, but Oliver answered it anyhow. He

told Dr. Swench about how his parents didnt love him
anymore. They went out and got a baby girl instead.

But you see, Oliver, Dr. Swench explained, little

Shamona doesnt have family to go back to. Thats why she
has to come and be a part of your family.

I see, Dr. Swench nodded. That would be the baby

Shamona that Ive heard talk about?
Yeah, Shamona. What kind of name is that!?!

Sniffing back his tears, Oliver said, I dont see why she
cant go live with some other family. Whys it have to be us?

Dr. Swench shrugged. I think its kind of pretty.

Dr. Swench furrowed his big white eyebrows and nodded.

Changing the subject, he asked, Do you want to help me
with that pup I was telling you about?

I dont, Oliver declared authoritatively. I think its

stupid. I think shes stupid! As soon as the words escaped his
mouth, Oliver instinctively shrunk away from the grownup
next to him. His parents always rebuked him when he called
his sister by that pejorative.

Olivers mood brightened instantly. Sure! Where is it?

Dr. Swench took him into the next room, which was Dr.
Cyrils surgery. Lying on a blanket in a crate in the corner
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PHLDMS1 4920439v.1

was a thin bundle of matted orange fur all curled up in a ball.

Oliver squatted next to the box to get a closer look. Whats
the matter with him?

Until shes healthy, yes, but then hell have to find

someone to take her. He eyed Oliver closely. Someone who
would love her and raise her proper, just as if they had had
her since she was born.

Her, Dr. Swench corrected. Shes malnourished. That

means she has gone without proper food so long that she got
very, very sick. She almost died.

Oliver offered, Ill do it! I can take her!

You think so? Dr. Swench asked skeptically. Come on
back to the outer room and well talk about it.

Thats terrible, Oliver reacted indignantly. Whose is

she? Why didnt they feed her?

Dr. Swench pulled the desk chair over by the fire and
invited Oliver to sit on an overturned apple basket. He told
Oliver he wasnt so sure the youngster was up to caring for a
growing puppy. Shed need to be fed and watered, he
explained, and shed need to go outside and be able to run
around everyday, come rain, snow, sleet, or shine. Mostly,
young man, shell need to be loved. If you love her, everything
else will fall in line. Now, do you think you can do all that?

Dr. Swench bent down to pat the puppys head. He

touched her nose, then answered, Shes nobodys. Someone
found her lying by the side of the road, almost dead. They
brought her here for Dr. Cyril to take care of. Go ahead, you
can pet her.
Oliver reached a tentative hand out and softly rubbed the
puppys back. Her eyes opened, and she stretched contentedly
before snuggling up again.

Yes! he answered excitedly.

What kind of dog is she?

Dr. Swench shook his head. No, not so fast, young man.
This isnt the kind of decision you can make quickly. You have
to think about how a new puppy will change things, how the
others in your family will react. And besides, dont you
already have a dog?

Dr. Swench stood and prepared a small syringe with

medicine. Can you hold her head still for me, son?
Oliver complied and watched as the veteran veterinarian
deftly injected the treatment into the scruff of the puppys
neck without her noticing. Shes mostly golden retriever, but
shes got some other blood in her too.

Yeah, Nomad. Hes great, Oliver said earnestly.

And dont you love him?

Is she going to be alright?

Sure. Weve had him since I was a baby.

Dr. Swench rubbed his beard and looked hard at the

scrawny animal. I think she will, Oliver. We got her just in
time, though. Another night out in the cold and ... well, lets
just be thankful that didnt happen.

Dr. Swench wondered, But if you already have a dog you

love, how will you love another one?
Thats easy. You love em both.

Will Dr. Cyril keep her? Oliver asked.

Love them both? Equally? Without taking better care of

one over the other?

-5PHLDMS1 4920439v.1

Sure, Oliver said, somewhat disappointed that the old

man didnt understand this simple point.

Think about it -- didnt baby Jesus grow up to change a lot of

things?

But wont Nomad feel resentful if you bring a new puppy

into the family?

Like what?
Well, Dr. Swench explained, Jesus changed the way
people thought about God. He taught them that God loves
them, and wants to be friends with them. And he changed the
way people worshipped God. He taught that what matters
most is how you feel about God in your heart, not how
religious you act at church or in the synagogue.

Maybe at first, but hell get used to her. Itll just take
some time, Oliver predicted. Theyll be great together.
Dr. Swench paused, then suggested, Sort of like how you
and Shamona will be, once you two get used to each other?

Oliver hadnt really thought about any of this before.

Oliver frowned. Hey! Thats not fair! He had almost

forgotten about baby Shamona until then.

Dr. Swench continued, And you know something else -Christmas is about adoption, too.

Dr. Swench rested a hand on Olivers shoulder. I know

its hard for you to see now, son, but soon you will realize that
Samoans arrival in your household is a great blessing from
God.

Yeah? Like how?

Well, you know that Christmas is when baby Jesus was
born, right?

Oliver wiped a sleeve against his nose. He turned his

argument to tomorrows holiday. But Christmas is ruined!
Everythings different! Momma put up a stocking for
Shamona and said Santas going to bring her presents, too! It
wont just be me anymore! And shell get to open stuff, and
shell get into my toys and things and want to play with them,
and break them and stuff. Christmas will never be the same!

Sure. Everybody knows that.

But did you know that Jesus himself was adopted?
Oliver didnt buy it. Nuhn-uh. His mother was Mary.

Ah hah, Dr. Swench nodded with understanding. So

thats the rub. Christmas is changing on you, isnt it?

Thats right -- she was. But Jesus didnt have a father, not
in the regular sense, anyhow, so Joseph took him in and
raised him like he was his own. Thats what adoption is all
about -- when a loving parent takes someone who isnt in the
family and brings them in and loves them forever. Sort of like
how it would be if you brought that little pup into your home
with your folks, Shamona, and Nomad.

Oliver huffed, Christmas isnt supposed to change!

Really? Dr. Swench asked. I thought thats what
Christmas is all about.
What do you mean? Oliver asked cautiously, not sure
that he would like the answer.

Dr. Swench could see by Olivers confused expression that

he was trying to comprehend. He tried to tie it all up for the
boy. You see, Oliver, thats what I mean when I say that
Christmas is all about adoption. Before Jesus came, some
people taught that God only loved a certain group of people,

Dr. Swench shrugged. I just thought thats what

Christmas really is -- a celebration that things can change.
-6PHLDMS1 4920439v.1

learned that neither human love nor the love of God is limited
by blood line, which is probably why he continues to make
his annual, furtive pilgrimage to those who shelter the
forgotten members of both the human and animal kingdoms.

called the Chosen Ones, but Jesus explained that while that
group had indeed been chosen for a special purpose, Gods
love was available to everyone. Everybody can be adopted into
Gods holy family, and the old children are loved every bit as
much as the new ones. Just like you can love both Nomad
and this little puppy here, and just like your Mom and Dad
love both you and Shamona, God loves everybody, without
loving anybody any less.
Oliver leaned closer to the fire. So baby Shamona and
the puppy, theyre like baby Jesus, huh?
Dr. Swench chuckled, Yes, in a manner of speaking, I
suppose they are.
Oliver stared at the fire while Dr. Swench went to check
in on the puppy. When he returned, Oliver looked up and
said with mature conviction, Yes.
Yes what? Dr. Swench asked.
Yes, I could take care of the puppy, and Nomad, and love
them both.
Youve thought it through? In both your head and your
heart?
Yes, sir, Oliver answered respectfully. Then he added, I
think I had better go home now. Do you think maybe you
could talk to my mom and dad about the puppy? I mean,
when she gets better and all.
Dr. Swench smiled and nodded. Id be delighted to.

Just as his parents had done with Shamona in December,

Oliver formally adopted the orphan puppy in January. In
honor of his sister and the retired animal doctor, Oliver
named the retriever Simonea. He learned to love both the dog
and his sister. Thanks to the caring veterinarian, he also
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