by Sonja Lutz

Created on: December 15, 2008   Last Updated: February 07, 2009

A Christmas Miracle

"Mother, it is Elizabeth. Your daughter. How are you feeling today?

"Out, out!" she cried.

Sighing, I adjusted the footrest of her wheelchair, tucked her pink afghan over her legs and began rolling her toward the activity room for the Christmas sing-along. It had been this way for the past two years. My once dynamic mother, who for years had mesmerized her classes with the language of Shakespeare, had been reduced to one monosyllabic word. She had retreated into her own world, and nothing I did brought her back to me.

Christmas time. The nursing home took on a pathetic look of gaiety. Evergreen wreaths line the halls, their sweet smell masking the odor of urine. A large Christmas tree twinkled in the recreation room with its red and green lights illuminating the rows of sleeping residents in their wheelchairs.

Settling her near the back, I found a folding chair and sat whispering to her as the activity director adjusted her mike to announce the first song.

"Mother, remember the trip we took to Florida? You saw the ocean for the first time. You were so excited."

"Out, out!" she cried.

All right now," the director said, "Let's start with "Deck the Halls."

"Fa la la la la," mouthed the dormant residents.

Undaunted, the director led them through a medley of joyful music, ending with "Silent Night."

I had barely begun to sing when I heard the rich soprano voice of my mother join in. Not the mother of the last few years, but the mother of my youth who sang in the church choir. The mother who once held me in her arms singing lullabies.

Turning toward her, I saw her crystal blue eyes gleaming with recognition as she sang.

I shivered with happiness. She was my mother again. Her face was joyful and animated. She connected with everything that was going on. I had found my mother again. She had come back to me.

"Mom! I exclaimed. "Mom, you remembered! You remembered the song!"

"Out, out," she cried as she retreated back into her own lost world.

She had left me again, but I knew it was a miracle-a Christmas miracle. For over two years, I hadn't recognized the mother I remembered, but I had been given one last glimpse of her-the real her-the mother I knew from my childhood. I can still hear her singing that one last time in the lovely voice I knew so well. I can still see her eyes sparkling with recognition of everything and everyone around her. The mother I knew and loved had returned to me for one brief moment in time and then retreated into her own silent night forever.

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