The Paper Route

by Maureen Stirsman

    He was twelve years old that Christmas in 1948. Tom Pat lived in Chicago in a basement apartment with his parents and two brothers. Every morning he got up early to do his paper route, eat a bowl of Wheaties, and run to St. James Lutheran School. He liked the German teachers and the picnics in the summer with baloney on big slabs of soft white bread. But now the snow reminded him he would have to memorize his part for the Bible story program.

    He ran to the newspaper office, quickly folded the papers around the advertisements and by the time his hands were black from the print he was ready to go.

    He loaded 400 papers into a three-wheeled cart provided by the Chicago Tribune and pushed it to a three- story redbrick apartment building. He grabbed thirty papers and ran up three flights of stairs, tossing a paper at each customer's door. Quickly he was back at the cart and on to the next building. Sometimes he would see someone in the hall. A white haired grandmother pulled her chenille robe closer and shuffled in fluffy purple slippers. "Hi, honey. Is it cold out there?"

    Ninety minutes later Tom Pat pushed the empty cart back to the newspaper office and ran to the warm schoolroom that smelled of chalk and peanut butter. Today his mother was going Christmas shopping and gave him 25 cents to buy lunch at the corner drug store. He sat on the cement steps eating cheese crackers and drinking chocolate pop. By the time he got back to school big fluffy flakes were falling. Maybe it would be a white Christmas after all.

    After school, Tom Pat delivered papers again. The 'Trib' reported "Seven Shopping Days until Christmas." It was a very exciting time.

    Ordinarily the boys didn't have to collect for the newspapers but at Christmas they had a supply of calendars they delivered personally. That Saturday Tom Pat knocked on the door of each customer. "Hello, I'm your paper boy. Here's your calendar." Everyone gave him a quarter, some a dollar. Mrs. Kennedy asked him to come in for a cookie and glass of milk. The red and green frosted sugar cookies were not like his mother's famous chocolate chip, but they were good anyway. His mother shopped carefully for the three boys. Although her husband, Tom, had a steady job it was expensive to live in Chicago.

    Tom Pat passed out the calendars and counted his money- $250.00. It was a fortune. He dreamed of the wonderful things he could buy but soon came back to reality and ran home.

    His mother was peeling potatoes. A plate of chocolate chip cookies stood on the table. "How was your day, honey?" she asked. "Oh, good," he said. "Today we gave out the calendars." "Great," Eloise turned to her son. "Did your customers give you anything?" "Yes, mama." He took a wad of bills from his pocket and handed them to her. She wiped her hands on her blue gingham apron and sat down at the table. She laid the bills out in piles of tens and started to count. "My goodness, this looks like a lot!" "Yes, mama, two hundred and fifty dollars," he said, "This is for Christmas for our family." "You worked so hard, Tom Pat. I hate to take it from you." "I know, mama, but it's for Christmas for all of us, you and daddy and Larry and Richard. Merry Christmas, mama." Tom Pat kissed her on the cheek and went into his bedroom to find his brothers.

    Eloise looked at the crumpled bills and thought of the slim shopping she had been able to do. Tom Pat was only twelve years old. It pained her heart to take his money. But she knew she would. She knew it would make Christmas. "I will make it up to you, honey," she whispered looking at the worn coat he had tossed on the kitchen chair. She touched her eyes with the corner of her apron and put the money into the kitchen drawer. She heard her children laughing from the other room. "You are so good, my first-born son. You are such a good boy. And you have the real spirit of Christmas in your heart, the Lord Jesus. God has truly blessed us." Then humming a carol, she began to set the table.

"Permit little children to come unto me...for of such is the kingdom of God." Luke 18:16b.

Posted: 12/13/2001
URL: http://www.heartlight.org/articles/200112/20011213_paper.html

(c) Copyright 2001, Maureen Stirsman <tstirs@highstream.net>, used by permission.

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