I looked at her from the corner of my eye, she was definitely flustered but I could care less, she was their mother and the behavior of her children were her own concern...my problem was that they were most likely going to distract me with their constant banter and shenanigans throughout the entire church service.

She sighed as her young son began crawling under the front pew; she quickly bent down and caught the three year old by the leg, and dragged him back to the seat. "Stop it! You're embarrassing Mommy," she whispered under her breath as she adjusted the crying infant she held in her arms.

I knew what my own father would have done if I were to behave in church like that little one was, I'd have had my hide tanned right there on the spot! The tot took that moment as a perfect opportunity to begin scribbling on the inside cover of the Hymnal.

"Uh...your son ma'am," I said with a frown, and then indicated down at the floor with a nod of my head.

"Arrugh!" she groaned. "Michael Charles! That is not how we treat books!"

I turned back toward the alter and attempted to focus on our Priest, Father Huber. As the woman removed the book from her child's hand, she returned it to the holder in the back of the seat. While occupied, she didn't see him begin to draw on the seat.

I scowled at the boy and wagged my finger in the air; he looked up at me and frowned, slightly hiding behind his mother and peering at me through the gap between her arm and body.

She gave me an apologetic glance, "Sorry," she mouthed.

I glanced at my watch. What would possess this young, single mother of two little ones to even attempt attending church, on of all times as Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve! I glanced at my watch. The hands were resting on the twelve.

We had been listening to the choir in the loft singing up until now, then the priest had entered through a door in the front, near the alter, had turned and was now facing the congregation. There seemed to be an army of young children coming up the back carrying a great cross up the aisle and toward the priest. Behind the cross was was another child carrying a life-size ceramic figure, which represented the baby Jesus. Several others were in procession behind all of this and were now approaching the front of the church.

I glanced at her as she held her own infant child in her arms, trying to fish out a bottle from the diaper bag. She was pretty...tired, but still very pretty. If I had to guess, I'd say she was probably within five years of my own age...there was no ring upon her finger.

We all began singing "Oh Holy Night" as the little ceramic figure was placed into the manger set off to one side. As we sang, I felt a pressure on the top of my left foot. Glancing down, I saw it was her son, Michael using my foot as a step to get as high as the kneeler.

'These two should be in bed,' I thought to myself. 'Children should be dreaming of Santa at this time, thinking of the great things that will be under their tree when the morning comes.'

As the tot turned, his foot slipped from the kneeler and he fell hard to the floor. In an attempt to prevent the fall, I made a quick stab at grasping his arm. His own mother did likewise. We followed him to the floor in unison and crashed our heads together...hard.

I staggered back and sat down, blinking away tears that were rapidly welling in my eyes from the pain. "You okay?" A man asked.

"I...I think so," I stammered, trying to blink away the blurriness of my tears.

I glanced down and saw her child in my arms, her hand still clinging onto the bottle. The more I looked; I realized that the feminine hand holding the bottle was my own. "How?" I gasped. I wanted to scream, somehow though, I held it in.

The man...I used to be, turned forward again facing the alter, his attention was upon the Catholic Mass. "How could one minute I be him, then the next be this woman?" I felt as though my knees were about to buckle. 'How is this possible?' my mind screamed.

'Get control of yourself!' advised my thoughts. 'There has to be some sort of reasonable explanation for all of this!'

I looked down at Michael; he was climbing up onto the church pew so he could see what was going on in the front of church. My eyes slowly were diverted to Amber. "Amber?" I quizzed myself. "How would I know this little one's name was Amber?"

"Mommy!" I felt tapping on my shoulder, but I still couldn't pull my thoughts away from this strange fix I was in. "Mommy!" repeated the child a little bit louder, the man...me glanced toward us.

"I had always thought of myself as a handsome, single man...and strangely, trapped in this feminine body, I did...but, did I always look that grumpy to others?" I wondered as let me gaze drift down to the boy, "Shhhhhh!" I whispered to him.

"But I want to see Jesus' Christmas tree!" he pleaded desperately. I glanced upward quickly, and saw what he wanted to see. The church always surrounds the huge nativity scene with several live trees, all decorated in clear blue twinkling lights. High overhead was a tall "star" suspended on a long rod.

I placed Amber in her carrier and picked up Michael. "See all the pretty lights, Michael?" I whispered. As I held him, I realized...or rather some of this woman's memories seeped into my mind. I knew now why I...she wanted to bring the children.

"That's just how mommy remembers it from when I was a little girl," I found myself say. "No matter what happens, at least one thing about Christmas remains constant."

I felt puzzled, why would I say this? They're just trees with colored lights on them, the manger is nothing but a wooden structure with some ceramic figurines inside. Where would that "homey" thought have come from?

As I was placing him down onto the pew, everyone else sat down in unison. We sounded like a great army, moving as one. The priest stepped up to the lectern, and began to talk to us.

Michael began bouncing slightly; I glanced toward him at the same time as I stood up the bottle once again for Amber to drink from. "Stop that!" I whispered softly.

In a voice that carried throughout our section of the pews, Michael decided to inform the world of his predicament. "I gotta pee Mommy!"

I quickly hung my head, dropping it forward so the entire church wouldn't see my embarrassment. "Can it wait?" I asked softly.

"I'm going to pee my own self!" he said, speaking louder than necessary. Several around me began to snicker.

"You can't go to the restroom by yourself, you're not old enough!" I quietly reminded him, my thoughts and words settling in quickly, I found in my answer, stuck somehow in this strange "Mother mode".

His dancing became more frantic; inwardly I knew that he was wearing nothing more than little terry cloth training pants, opting for his "big boy" underwear just before leaving the homeless shelter. "But how would I know that?" I wondered, the thought didn't last long as the "mother" in me quickly gathered Amber up, took Michael by his hand and began heading out of the pew. As we approached the man...he stood and allowed us to pass. He didn't look as glum, perhaps thinking we were leaving...either that or just wishing to enjoy the brief moment of being without my children for a few minutes. "My children?" I thought as I headed toward the back of church with Michael in tow.

I neared the speaker mounted on the wall in the back of church, with Amber and Michael in tow, just as Father Huber said, "Without the infant laying in the manger long ago...and the sacrifices our benevolent God made as Jesus grew...without all this, we are but dust! A dust that...." His voice grew softer as we passed the vicinity of the speaker.

Michael paused for a brief second, causing me to have to give him a tug. "What's with the dawdling?" I asked.

He turned and began walking again, "The man said we were butt dust...what's butt dust?" The ushers who had gathered at the back of church began laughing uncontrollably among themselves. I ignored their laughter and continued toward the restroom, my cheeks warming from his question and my own embarrassment.

"Is it the powder like you put on Amber?" he asked as I pushed the women's restroom door open."

"Shhhhh!" I whispered to quiet him. As the door thankfully glided closed, I could still hear the laughing of the ushers.

I pointed toward the toilets and Michael raced into a stall, dropping his pants and underwear in flight. As he climbed on the seat, he began calling out, making sounds, listening to the echoing of the room.

"Shhh! Michael, must you always be so noisy?" I asked softly, realizing that I had Amber on a changing table with her diaper already off. I continued changing her in stunned silence, meanwhile my son started singing Jingle Bells...or at least his version of it within the stall.

"How did this happen to me?" I asked myself softly, fastening the tape to the diaper. "Did something happen when we bumped heads?" I refastened the little buttons upon her outfit and dropped the soiled diaper into the trash. "How is it that I know what to do?" I frowned, as I held my daughter, washing and drying one of my hands at a time.

"Mommy?" the little voice echoed.

"Yes Michael, what is it?" I replied as I picked up my daughter, kissed and caressed our cheeks against each other. It was the strangest and probably, most beautiful thing I had ever done within recent memory. Yet, it was a gesture like I had seen so many other loving mothers do, a sharing of that maternal bond between themselves and their children.

"If we're not at the shelter...will Santa still come?" He hopped down and with a soft grunt, and pulled his pants up.

I felt a strange sadness tug at my chest, I knew that there would be no Christmas beyond the few meager gifts that I had been able to buy and place within the diaper bag. "We'll see, punkin."

Sadly I waited for him to come to the sink, I turned the water on and squirted soap into his tiny hands. "Have we been bad?" He asked as he worked the soap into lather.

"No honey, not bad..." I replied. It was hard to even say anything as I realized that this would be not much of a Christmas for him. I didn't really care about myself, and knew Amber would be too young to remember. I dabbed away a tear with the back of my hand and pulled down a hand towel far enough so Michael could remove it from the holder himself.

I watched him dry his tiny hands, taking care as I had shown him to dry between each and every finger. As I watched him, everything became suddenly clear to me. I was alone, abandoned in the city by a boyfriend who was nothing more than empty promises. These two beautiful children were his, the only really good things that came from our relationship. He had never allowed me to work and now that he was gone, I couldn't afford childcare so I could get a job, had no income to put a roof over our head and no money for food or presents this Christmas.

"Parents?" I wondered briefly, but knew that they passed away long ago when I was eighteen. I had no one...and these two had me and were depending on "Mommy" to provide them with...Christmas.

I trembled with a great overwhelming sadness; I feared what they would find in the morning. I was certain that Michael would be disappointed, he probably wouldn't remember it for long, but I would. I took a deep breath and let it out, knowing that we had to finish what we had set out to do. Attend church on Christmas Eve as I had promised, then find a warm place to sleep.

I quickly checked my face prior to going out, and then wondered why I cared. I swung the door aside and ushered Michael before me. As we were going back to our pew, the ushers who had been in the back were now taking offerings near the front. I quickly sidled past my former self and took my seat. I picked up the purse that was behind the kneeler and fished out my wallet. I opened up the bill area and found it completely empty; sadly I turned to the change compartment.

Two quarters lay within the area...two stinking quarters was the only thing between me and being completely broke. I handed them to Michael and pointed to the end of the pew where the man, the old me was seated. "Take these coins...they're for Jesus."

Michael looked up to see the usher walking back toward us, pausing at each row to extend the basket and collect loose money and church envelopes. Michael took the coins and moved near the man who I had once been; I felt a bitter pang of sadness as the last of our money was about to be deposited into the collection plate.

Michael studied the coins in his little hand, and then as the usher bent the basket on the long pole down for my son to place in the quarters...he avoided the basket and squeezed out past the man and into the aisle. "Michael...NO!" I whispered loudly, only to watch in abject horror as he raced across the back of church and up the outside aisle toward the front. His tiny head was all I could see as he bounded up the aisle, and the packed church blocked that from time to time.

My heart sank, the closer he got to the front of the church! People around us began snickering, laughing at the innocent humor of my son. My face grew warm as I held Amber tighter to my chest...trying to hide behind her.

Michael climbed the few steps that were just ahead of the alter and paused at the nativity, drinking in the beautiful scene...it seemed almost reverently. Then he turned and walked up to the priest who was preparing communion at the alter. Father Huber hands were spread out in an all-encompassing prayer when Michael arrived. "I could just die!" I sighed under my breath as he approached Father as if he had not a care in the world.

Father Huber looked down; Michael was standing at his feet. "Here you go!" he said as he reached up to place the coin in the elder priest's hand. There was a smattering of laughter as the old priest became slightly startled by the sudden presence of the boy. I tried to get lower in my seat while the entire congregation began laughing as my son hopped down the steps, almost falling on the last, then raced down the center aisle to the back of church.

"Mommy! I gave money for Jesus!" The laughter grew louder in my ears as I wished I could just disappear from view. The boy squeezed past the man and as he was nearing me he said loudly, "Aren't you proud of me, Mommy?"

I could feel my face growing warm. "Uh...yes...yes Michael," I sighed in shock as Michael proudly hugged me.

My head began to swim and I sat back into the seat and closed my eyes, as I opened them I found myself once again back in my old body. I quickly glanced at my hands then toward the woman who was holding one child and hugging the precocious boy.

Father Huber laughed and walked toward the alter steps, "You know, in almost 35 years of service to the church...that has to be the most unique offertory gift I've ever taken part of. Ah, the beautiful, sweet innocence of youth."

Everyone around us was still giggling; the young woman's face had grown beet red. All other faces were upon both her and the boy. I smiled and gave her a reassuring nod.

Church ended much in the same way as it started, only on a reverse order. A great chorus of voices sang, all praising the newly arrived Christ child.

I looked over at this little family, realizing that I had been given some sort of miraculous insight into her plight, spending a brief moment of my life as this young mother struggling with her children. Its story was written on my soul, I felt that it was destined for me to do something to help this family...but what?

As people were filing out I stood in the aisle, waiting for the woman to exit our pew. I found myself smiling, now fully understanding her frustration. She glanced up and gave me a quick weak grin. "Kids."

I felt my heart grow at that very moment, a smile breaking across my face slowly. "They're beautiful!" I replied, realizing that they weren't bad...just ornery.

"I have to apologize for the way they behaved and I'm really sorry about..." she said as she struggled past me carrying the diaper bag, the child carrier and trying to herd the boy ahead of her.

"Here, let me help." I gently took the diaper bag from her hand and hoisted the boy up so quickly that he giggled. "My name is Roger," I said to her.

"Melanie," she said with a smile. "I'd like to thank you for not getting too mad at them."

I smiled and gave her a nod, "I guess kids take some getting use to, but believe me, I understand."

"I'll say," she said as she sat the carrier down and began to button up her jacket, taking her cue, I crouched down, placed the boy on the floor and tugged the boy's jacket zipper up and then fastened my own. In an instant he was hoisted back up into my arms.

"You take the bus here, Melanie?" I asked even though I already knew how they got there. We headed out the doors of the church and into the blustery evening, snow swirling in the outside lights. I didn't want to scare her; I knew much more about her than I probably should, after all, I was her for a short time. I stuck to general questions that anyone might ask, and kept our conversation pleasant.

"We walked..." she said with a slight amount of embarrassment.

I knew why though, she had no money for fare. "I've got my car here...can I give you a lift home?"

She looked down at her feet and began to cry. We were standing near the sidewalk entirely alone. "You're having a rough go of it...aren't you?"

She struggled to wipe a tear without sitting the baby down in the snow; I reached into my pocket and removed my clean kerchief, handing it to her. She nodded her response, her face distorted in mid cry.

"Do you have any family around here?" I asked, knowing the answer already. Again she could only cry in despair of her young family's plight. I stood up straighter, my heart warming as it had not been before. "You'll come with me...you can't spend Christmas alone in a shelter."

"My kids..." She wiped her tears as I took the carrier from her, the diaper bag slung over a shoulder and the boy firmly in my arms.

I motioned toward my car and began to walk us all in that direction, "It'll be okay, you'll see," I said smiling, trying to reassure her in her desperate need.

"I can't pay..." she began.

"And I didn't ask...did I?" I interrupted.

I sat the bag on the hood and fished out my keys, unlocking the door I waited for her to place the baby inside and buckle the carrier in place. Michael had already bounded to the opposite side and was digging for the seat-belt.

"Is this your car, Mister?" he said as he pulled the strap across his shoulder and clicked it into place.

"Mine and the bank's" I said with a laugh.

"I like it," he said with finality.

I waited for Melanie to step back, closing the rear door. I opened the passenger door for her; she sat down in the seat. Leaned against the headrest, and sighed deeply.

I crunched through the snow back to the drivers side and climbed in the car, and then closed the door. Putting on my seat-belt, I inserted the key into the ignition and started he car.

"Home isn't too far, I could have walked too, but...I had this feeling that I should drive today."

She gave me a curious look. "I know what you mean...I had the strangest feeling to come to church. I grabbed everything we had and just...left."

"I guess the Good Lord is trying to tell us something..." I said as I idled the car and began to adjust the heater.

The drive to my home was uneventful. I parked in the garage and walked them into the kitchen, there Melanie stood and gazed around the room. "Your home is lovely."

"And warm..." Shouted the boy as he raced into the living room. He stood and slowly looked around, "Hey, where's your Christmas tree?"

I gave her a sheepish look, and answered the boy. "It's just me, I've never really had the need for one."

She smiled and carried the sleeping girl to the couch and sat down, her eyes fixated on my fireplace's dancing flames. "The fire feels wonderful."

"It's one of the things that prodded me to buy this place last month. Nothing beats a great fireplace." I walked a few steps past her and down a short hall, "Bedrooms and bathroom are back here." I said pointing.

She followed me and peeked around the corner where my guest room was, "It's lovely, thank you."

I smiled, "The boy will have to sleep with you...the other bedroom is still full of boxes."

"That's fine, he's used to it." She turned toward the living room and called softly to her son, "Michael, come on. Time for bed."

He frowned and trudged down the hallway. "But I'm not sleepy!"

She gave him a motherly scowl. "Go on to bed, dear."

I stood at the door and grinned, "Well, I'll leave you two get settled in. Bathroom is right across the hall if you need it. There's towels and extra blankets in the bathroom closet, if you need a shower or get cold during the night."

"Thanks for everything." She smiled, and then gave me a hug and a quick peck on my cheek as she walked back to pick up Amber.

******

The house grew quiet as I lay reading in the bedroom until almost three in the morning. I stood and walked into the hall, all the rooms were quite dark. From the soft glow of the fireplace I could see both she and Michael sleeping soundly in the spare bed. From my brief time of being her, I knew that it was probably the first decent bed they've been in for some time.

I moved on into the living room, and stood in the fireplace glow. The house did seem empty without a tree, especially at Christmas. I resolved to do something about it as I dug into my pocket for my keys; I quietly slipped out into my car.

It was time to call in an old favor from my college days. I had a friend who was a high-up manager of a discount store, I was going to see if he could help get me the things I needed.

******

I bolted up in bed; it was the sound that I had heard that brought my senses awake. I snapped my head toward the sounds outside the door and glanced at my alarm clock. "7:37...don't people sleep in anymore?"

I swung my feet out and pulled on my pajama bottoms, slipped my feet into my slippers and threw my robe on. I tied it as I headed for the door; still groggy from my late night...I had only been in bed for an hour and a half.

I walked to the end of the hall where the noise was the loudest; Melanie was leaning against the wall with Amber in her arms. Before her, Michael raced excitedly from one side of the tree to the other.

"Mommy! Santa came...he knew we'd be here!" Michael shouted.

She glanced over at me as I stopped beside her, "You did this for us?" She whispered with emotion.

I smiled and looked at the boy who was standing in front of the Christmas tree, "Yeah, Santa and I did it for you and the kids." I replied softly, feeling the warmth of the moment swell over me.

She placed Amber on the floor, the little girl's eyes focusing entirely on the tree's twinkling lights. Melanie stood and returned to face me, tears rolling down her cheeks. She hugged me and cried into my shoulder, I could feel my own tears welling in my eyes as I returned her hug.

"You're a good man...thank you!" she whispered through her tears.

"Mommy, can I get my stocking down?" Michael said, bouncing gleefully in front of the fireplace.

"Stockings?" She whispered, stepping into the room so she could see the mantle.

There in a row was a stocking for each of us, filled with small items and candy. She stared at them with tears still reflecting in her beautiful eyes, "They have each of our names on them..."

I grinned nervously, "All family's have Christmas stockings...Santa says so."

"Is that what we are?" she spoke as she wiped away another tear with her finger, "Are we a family?"

I gave her a smile and walked past her into the kitchen, pulling down a coffee cup and sat it on the counter. "Are you a coffee drinker?"

She followed me in and stood at the counter, "It's a luxury that I've never been able to afford." She studied my face for the answer that I avoided.

"I'll take that as a yes," I said as I pulled down another cup. I began to pour the steaming liquid from the carafe and returned it to the maker once both cups had been filled. "Coffee on a timer...nothing beats modern technology."

She took the cup I offered, "You never did answer my question, Roger. Are...are we a family?"

I looked into the reflection of my cup; the steam skated lazily across its surface. "When I bought this house this past November, I did it on a whim. It was like I was being told to prepare...sort of strange when I wasn't dating. I...can't explain it...but deep down, I was told you'd be coming, I just didn't know when."

She was trembling; she sat her cup down on the counter-top. "Are...are you asking us to stay?"

I sat the cup in my hand down, preparing for what was to come next. I whispered to her, "My home is your home for as long as you want."

Melanie embraced me, crying once again upon my shoulder. In the room Michael was still waiting on us to pull down his stocking. "That's quite a lot for us to ask..." she spoke as she dried the tears.

"That's okay, from the looks of it, Santa had already decided." I nodded toward the stockings as she leaned forward and kissed me tenderly on the mouth.

"Remind me later to tell you of my dream," she said as we parted, picked up our coffee and walked into the living room.

That day was one of the most wonderful that I think I've every enjoyed, it felt like the Christmas' of old that I remembered as a child. There were presents galore for the children and Melanie, most of it I had to guess on the sizes. I was thankful that my buddy, his wife and two teenage daughters were still up when I arrived early this morning. They had been watching a television holiday movie marathon.

All I had to do was ask and they responded way above and beyond call, I was truly grateful for all of their help. We power shopped in an empty store, and thankfully both of the daughters wrapped everything that was under this tree, all with a smile on their tired faces.

His wife even thought far enough ahead to purchase some much needed groceries, which was helpful in giving us our Christmas dinner and a few meals besides. I was happy and it seemed that Melanie and the kids were content as well.

Finally, by evening I carried Michael to bed and Melanie put Amber into a crib that my friend had given us to use. I returned to the living room and I sat on the end of the couch, Melanie stood staring into the fireplace.

"You never did tell me about your dream," I reminded her.

She sat beside the couch on the floor, drawing her knees up into her chest. "I had a dream that I lived in a beautiful home. It was during the winter."

"Well, see there, dreams come true!" I said as I stretched out on the couch.

"The home in my dream was exactly like this one!" She glanced at me from the corner of her eye.

"That's spooky," I said with a laugh. "Was that all?"

"No. I...I was married to a loving husband." She looked back at me, waiting to see my expression. "You."

I sat quietly; her dream was not unlike the one I had this very morning. I knew what was coming next, but waited for her to tell me anyway. "There's more isn't there."

"I...I was pregnant." She turned slightly toward me, trying to gauge the strange dream's news upon me.

"I know," I responded, taking her hair and brushing it away from her beautiful face. "It's unsettling isn't it...almost as though our lives were destined to intersect this Christmas.”?

"Then you had the same dream?" She asked. Shocked that I just said what she had been thinking. "You know what comes next?"

I nodded and reached up, turning off the light next to the couch. The room became bathed by the glow from both the tree and the fireplace. "In my dream, we made love by the light of the Christmas tree."

She nodded, the shock gone from her expression. "I became pregnant as a result of that...day."

I slid onto the floor beside her; we both stared at the glowing fireplace. "I guess Christmas is a day for miracles to happen."

"Making love with someone you care about, and getting pregnant by the very result isn't really that much of a Miracle," she said, leaning against me.

I laughed. "It is if you've been told that you can never have children."

She glanced at me. "You can't have kids?"

I shook my head. "My...uh...count is so low that I was told it would be impossible."

She hugged my arm and placed her head on my shoulder, "It's Christmas, and nothing is impossible on Christmas!" She looked up at me, I found myself being pulled toward her like a speck of dust to the sun.

Whether it was destiny or just a dream, I was about to find out within the soft glow of our first Christmas together…a Christmas to remember.