I Am the Messenger

And she kisses back.

Sometimes people are beautiful.

Not in looks.

Not in what they say.

Just in what they are.

Marie makes me come in for a cup of coffee. At first I knock it back, but she insists. "You have to, Ed."

I give in, and we go inside and drink and talk.

It's all comfortable for quite a while, until Marie's words stop and stand in the middle of the conversation. She stirs her coffee and says, "Thank you, Ed." The wrinkles around her eyes become a little unsettled and her eyes seem filled with sparks. "Thank you so much."

"For what?"

She shakes her head. "Don't make me say it, Ed. We know it was you--Jessie couldn't keep a secret if we glued his mouth shut. We know it was you."

I surrender completely. "You deserved it."

She's still not satisfied. "But why? Why us?"

"That," I tell her the truth, "I have no idea about." I sip the coffee. "This is all very long and almost unexplainable. All I know is that I was standing outside this old house and the rest just happened."

Now Lua walks in among the words and pushes them forward. He says, "You know, Ed, we've been living here close to a year now, and nobody--absolutely nobody--has ever lifted a finger to help us or make us feel welcome." He drinks. "We expect no more these days. People have enough trouble getting by on their own...." His eyes hold on to mine for just a second. "But then you come along, out of nowhere. We just don't get it."

That's when a moment of clarity takes shape in front of me.

I say, "Don't even try--I don't understand it myself."

Marie accepts my statement but still takes it a little further. She says, "Fair enough, Ed, but we do want to thank you."

"Yes," says Lua.

Marie nods to him and he stands up and walks over to the fridge. Stuck to it with a magnet is an envelope. The name Ed Kennedy is on it, and he comes back and hands it to me.

"We don't have much," he says, "but this is the best we can do to thank you." He places it in my hands. "Somehow, I think you'll like it. Just a feeling."

/> Inside is a homemade Christmas card. All the kids have drawn on it. Christmas trees, bright lights, and kids playing. Some of the drawings are shockers, but still excellent. Inside are the words, also written by one of the kids:

Dear Ed,

have a happy cristmas! we hope you also have some beautiful lights like the ones you gave us.

From all the Tatupu family

It makes me smile and I stand up and go into the lounge room, where the kids are all sprawled out, watching the telly.

"Hey, thanks for the card," I say to them.

They all answer me, but it's Jessie who speaks loudest. "It's the least we could do, Ed." And within a few seconds they're all focused on the TV again. It's a video. One of those animal adventure things. They're all glued to a cat going down a stream in a cardboard box.

"See you all later," I say, but none of them hears. I only look contentedly at the pictures again and head back to the kitchen.

When I get there, the presentation isn't over.

Lua's standing there with a small dark stone that has a pattern on it like a cross.