THE SEASON OF GIVING By
Angel Gelique
The Season of Giving Angel Gelique
Copyright © 2015 Angel Gelique All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without express, written permission. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidences are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ******* eBook Edition License Notes This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or transferred unless a separate copy has been purchased. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.
AUTHOR’S NOTE I’ve had mixed feelings about writing and releasing this novella at a time that is supposed to be so warm, joyous and holy. Please know that it is not my intention, at all, to mock religion. I consider myself to be a good Christian (believe it or not). I sincerely hope that this story will not be offensive to those who embrace Jesus, as I do. And I hope that God will forgive me for any blasphemy I’ve (unintentionally) committed.
Jesus loves me…yes, I know….
~ONE~ With just a few days left before Christmas, it seemed as though everyone was out and about, scrambling to find that perfect gift for their loved ones. Lou Reilly walked amongst his fellow shoppers, feeling everything but merry. He was never one for malls. Or crowds. Or even mingling in public, in general. He was more of a loner. It’s not that he was an unfriendly person. He was just socially awkward and inept. But Lou tried not to let it get him down...most of the time. Over the years, he’d grown used to being an outcast. He’d spent his childhood as an only child, being home-schooled by extremely strict, highly devout Catholic parents. They emphasized the importance of religion, morality and good health. All else, even happiness, became a foreign concept. Sheltered to the point of imprisonment within his home, Lou’s parents did not even allow him to attend service at the local church. His father had long proclaimed his opinion that the church was merely a corrupt entity, dissolving sins for cash. Equipped with the Bible belonging to his grandfather, he had everything he needed to turn his home into a church, for all intents and purposes. And on every Sunday morning and every evening after dinner, Lou’s father preached the good word to his loyal congregation of two. But through the years, Lou grew curious about the outside world. As he’d seldom venture outdoors with his mother to go shopping, he would encounter a number of interesting people who piqued his curiosity. Most fascinating were the children close to his age who acted considerably different. Whereas he walked alongside his mother quietly, they bounded about noisily, grabbing items from shelves and pestering their parents to buy things. Unruly. That’s what his mother had to say about them. Unruly, undisciplined, and unloved by Jesus. His mother had explained that children who were not as pure as he could not be loved by Jesus because they were foul and tainted. They were dirty and selfish and only sought to satisfy their own needs. They did not embrace Jesus’ love and holiness, thus they could not possibly receive His glory. During one trip to the store when he was eight years old, a young boy about two inches taller darted up to him and poked him in the rib. “You’re it,” he shouted, then ran off. Stunned, Lou did not know what happened or how he was supposed to respond. With a quivering bottom lip and tears welling up within his eyes, he looked up to his mother for guidance. “You have to pray to Jesus for cleansing,” she said sternly. “That dirty boy just passed his sins to you.” Tears slid down Lou’s face as he thought about being sinful. He was a righteous boy and always did his best to stay as pure as his parents insisted. He suddenly feared that he would lose Jesus’ love. He grew angry at the boy who had condemned him. “I don’t want to go to hell,” he said nervously, clinging to his mother. His mother pulled back, shoving him away. “Don’t touch me, you’re tainted,” she hissed. Lou was devastated as he watched the revulsion spread across his mother’s face. He sobbed piteously as the playful boy peeked out from around the aisle. After a few moments, the boy began to approach. “Get away from me!” Lou shouted hysterically, stopping the child in his tracks. “Don’t come near me, don’t touch me. Leave me alone!”
“I just wanted to play tag,” the bewildered boy replied. “Leave me alone!” Lou shouted loudly, still attempting to seek comfort from his withdrawing mother. A dark-haired woman swiftly walked down the aisle and stood by the boy’s side. “What did you do, Brandon?” “Nothing, Mom, I just wanted to play tag,” he answered, worriedly. The woman approached Lou and his mother. “Did my son hurt your son?” She asked. “No, I didn’t...I didn’t,” Brandon insisted. “Your boy put his hands on my son,” Lou’s mother complained. “I only tagged him,” Brandon explained anxiously. “He touched my son,” Lou’s mother growled. The commotion started to attract onlookers. “Lady,” Brandon’s mother began to explain. “My son was just playing around.” “He has no right to touch my son,” Lou’s mother shouted angrily. Lou was hysterical. Brandon’s mothers turned to address him. He shrank away, as if frightened. “Did my son hurt you?” She asked softly. Lou was too afraid to answer. He’d never spoken to anyone but his mother and father. He knew that his mother was already angry that he’d become a sinner. He didn’t want to make the situation any worse. “Leave my son alone,” Lou’s mother warned. “Just get away from him. Your boy has done enough damage.” “No, I didn’t hurt him, I swear,” Brandon proclaimed. Seeing the look of desperation on her son’s face, she reached for him and hugged him close. Lou gasped at the sight. Not being familiar with hugs, kisses or any form of affection, really, he couldn’t understand what the woman was doing to her son. “Don’t hurt him,” he called out instinctively, feeling sorry for the boy despite his anger. “Hold your tongue, Louis,” his mother said caustically. “What is wrong with you?” Brandon’s mother asked furiously, glaring at Lou’s mother. Her face softening, she turned to Lou and said, “I’m just hugging him, sweetie.” “My name’s not sweetie,” Lou replied innocently, causing Brandon’s mother to laugh. “Your father will hear of this,” Lou’s mother informed him angrily. “Come along now.” Lou obeyed and followed his mother, whimpering, as she turned away from Brandon and his mother to leave the aisle. Brandon’s mother followed as well. “Are you threatening that child?” She called out. She continued to follow Lou and his mother until they left the store. She didn’t need a degree in sociology or psychology to recognize that things were not good for Lou. And though she wasn’t in the habit of being nosy, she really just wanted to make sure that he would be okay. But as Lou’s mother crossed the street and disappeared down the block with her forlorn son in tow, she knew that there was nothing she could do to help or change things. With a sigh, she turned her attention to her own son. He was rewarded with a new baseball. Lou was rewarded with the scrubbing. It was the first time Lou had experienced the scrubbing. The moment they returned home, his mother directed him to the bathroom and told him to remove his clothing. She left, briefly, and
returned with an abrasive scouring pad. Lou, expecting a mere bath, got much more as his mother embarked on the first stage of his cleansing. Later that evening, a sore and traumatized young Lou would experience the remainder of the cleansing process at the hands of his father...or rather, the thick, leather strap of his belt. In Jesus’ name, the child was cleansed of his sins.