I hope you enjoy my little romantic Christmas story. It is fiction. All of the characters are over the age of 18. I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas!
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Frosty -- A Christmas Story
Turning the key, Ms. Hannah Evanson locked her classroom and headed for the front entrance. As was her usual routine she had stayed late finishing up her paperwork. Consequently she was alone in the building as she walked towards the entrance. Her steps echoed in the hall as she walked. Over her right shoulder she had slung her purse while she carried her laptop in her left hand. She was dressed very conservatively. Unlike many of the younger teachers, the 36year old Hannah always wore crisp blouses, occasional sweaters and skirts to teach in. When she had first started teaching, exactly 14 years before, she developed the habit of dressing conservatively not so much because of the expectation from the administration as due to the fact that otherwise it would have been hard to distinguish the young teacher from her female students. That was no longer the case of course for Ms. Hannah was now an experienced and highly respected faculty member at Cardaway High School.
And Hannah worked hard for the respect she was given by her students and colleagues. She was exceptionally well organized and structured. Her lectures were often creative and fascinating. Students often remarked how she had the ability to bring to life in unique ways what many of them thought to be a boring subject -- history. But not only that, she was exceptionally thorough and fair to a fault in her grading. This meant of course that she was strict. Deadlines were carefully published. A student in her class earned their grades and there really was no point in questioning it. If you missed an A by one point, well, then you earned a B+.
But despite her excellence in the classroom, she was for all who knew her an enigma. The nicest thing that could be said was that she was distant and hard to get to know. It was like there was a wall that surrounded her emotionally, like a moat around a medieval castle. The result was that she never allowed herself any kind of friendly relationships with any of her students at all. And this cool aloofness was extended to her colleagues as well. She had but one friend among the other teachers. A math teacher named Maureen Jenkins. But even she was kept at a distance and for her part Maureen had a difficult time understanding her colleague. As far as the remainder of her teacher and administrator colleagues she considered them as professional acquaintances, with whom she worked and whom she always treated with respect. She expected the same in return. No more and no less.
The odd thing about her was that she was always so incredibly kind. Even when delivering bad news she had a way of doing it in such a kind and gracious way that one would hardly notice it was bad news. Or, if a colleague needed assistance, she was always, without exception, willing to help and offer support. But, on the other hand, she was so distant and could be cold and aloof. She was a dilemma to both her students and colleagues. And any attempt towards anything that could be construed as friendship was immediately shut down.
She had not always been so distant and cold. When she had started teaching, right out of college as an enthusiastic and newly married 23year old, she was filled with enthusiasm and had been very well liked. In fact it was during her 8
th
year of teaching that she acquired her nickname - "Frosty."
"Frosty the snowman is a happy jolly soul... he was made of snow but the children know how he came to life one day."
The inspiration for the nickname is not what you might think. Hannah had actually volunteered to participate in the school's Christmas program that year. Assisted by the choral music teacher, Hannah along with her friend Ms. Jenkins worked up a dance routine that they then performed as part of the Friday night Christmas program, a week before school would let out for Christmas break. The choreography they worked out had both of them wearing all white, a red scarf, a painted orange nose, green mittens and donning black top hats while they sang and danced.
There must have been some magic inthat old top hat they found.For when they placed it on his headhe began to dance around.
Their performance had not surprisingly been a huge hit at the school. Prim and proper Mrs. Hannah had sung and danced with the energetic Ms. Jenkins. The students had loved it and cheered and cheered them when they were done, giving them a standing ovation. And it was this performance that prompted some of the students to begin calling Mrs. Hannah, "Frosty." It was, for them, a nickname that had been coined to express endearment.
It might have not been all that big of a deal and have passed into the realm of forgotten school lore, except for one thing. Hannah, the
happy, jolly soul,
was about to experience a terrible emotional trauma that very night
.
She had invited her husband to the program. She knew that things had been slowly getting worse between them, but she truly believed that they would work it out and reestablish their loving relationship. After all, they had made vows to each other. But he did not show for the performance. After scanning the audience and not finding him there Hannah had felt a strange foreboding. She confided in Maureen, who simply shrugged it off, "Typical of men!" She said. But Hannah sensed that something was not right.
Upon returning home later that night she saw that the house was completely dark. She stopped her car outside the garage in order to gather her courage. Then she pushed the button. The door rose. Her husband's car was gone. She walked into the empty and dark house calling out. There was no answer. In the kitchen she found a note lying on the counter:
"I'm sorry Hannah. You have become so cold and distant. All you do is work. You never have any time for me. We have nothing in common anymore. I want something more. I want children. I loved you so much once, but not anymore. I'm sorry. I'll send the divorce papers. I wish you well. Kevin."
Hannah, who only an hour earlier had been dancing and singing happily at the school program, and who had been looking forward to the break, thinking perhaps that maybe, just maybe, she and her husband might be able to reconnect and revitalize their floundering marriage, collapsed into a sobbing mass on the floor. And there she remained for most of the night, unable even to stand. She had been so naïve. And she blamed herself. Like everything in her life, it was all her fault!
Finally after pulling herself up she managed to get to her bedroom and throw on an old nightgown. Then she collapsed into bed, where she stayed without eating all weekend. During those three days of lying in bed in her room with the lights off and the curtains closed a darkness, a deep sadness settled upon her like a cloud. What others eventually interpreted as her emotional distance, unfriendliness or cold aloofness was really a deep sadness and loneliness born of betrayal and self-recrimination. During that weekend she shut out the world and boxed up her emotions.
But to add to her pain, when she returned to school she discovered that the students had started calling her "Frosty." It was not meant to be cruel, it was rather intended as a compliment; the way young people will latch on to little things and use them to show a kind of innocent affection. But the first time she heard this nickname applied to her she uncharacteristically lashed out and put the student in tears. Of course she had apologized and made up with the student but the damage was done. After that the nickname acquired a harsh edge and seemed to take on a life of its own. The fact was that students and most of the teachers just didn't understand her fragile emotional state, what she had experienced and how hard she was trying to hang on.
From then on she hated "Frosty" the name and the song. It was connected to the rejection and betrayal she had experienced from the man whom she considered to be her best friend in the world and the only man she would ever love. Maureen Jenkins felt some guilt at dismissing her concerns so cavalierly that night and tried to help by reaching out to her in various ways. But Hannah eventually shut her out as well; she shut everyone out. And from then on, beginning with that fateful year and continuing every year thereafter she shunned Christmas. Despite the celebrative decorations that surrounded her home, her little house stood out each year for its darkness: no tree, no decorations and no lights. Just closed curtains and darkness.
The nickname, however, stuck and went underground. It was passed down from class to class year after year. Even though the context of the song and dance had been long forgotten, the moniker seemed to fit this now cold and distant teacher like one of Frosty's mittens. And whenever Hannah would hear someone talking about "Frosty" she would feel a jab of pain in her heart. Occasionally she also might hear the song when she was out and about, like at the grocery store. When she did, her eyes would fill with tears and she would just walk out of the store.
And so, 8 years later, another Christmas break had arrived. The now 36year old teacher buttoned her coat and crossed the dark parking lot to her car which she drove to her empty dark house. But for some reason tonight was different. She felt that deep sense of foreboding again. Similar to what she had felt all those years before and as she pulled into her driveway she was overcome with a sense of dread. Her house was so dark; so harsh and uninviting. She didn't want to go in. She was afraid to go in. She looked around. Both of her neighbors had lights all over their houses, with Santa's and wise men and "Joy" and "Season's Greetings" blazing out in colored lights for all the neighborhood to see." Beautifully decorated Christmas trees were visible through the windows. Everything was so warm and inviting. She could not stand to look at it. She screamed and buried her head in her hands. Then she quickly pulled her car out of the driveway and drove aimlessly through her small town. But everywhere she turned there were lights, lights and more lights! Happiness! and Joy! around every curve! She couldn't stand it! There was no joy or happiness for her! And it seemed liked all of the lights were mocking her; laughing at her; pointing at her.
