Irene began to play, and after a few bars, Oscar started to sing.
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.”
We shared a glance as I recalled how we’d first met outside a cathouse in Dawson City, where a starving and wretched young man had been wanting to debase himself for coin, but instead had fallen into my dubious care.
“I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
T’was grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear,
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come.
’Tis grace has brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.”
Our eyes held and I reckon we both understood how fortunate we were to be here, safe and sound, with good people, when we’d come to so much trouble on the way and when it’d been pure chance that Oscar had been placed in my path.
Or had it been more than that? A thought occurred to me as Oscar’s angelic voice rose to the rafters, and the shock on Clarence and Irene’s faces transformed into awed appreciation of his pleasing tones.
Had God put Oscar in my path so I could make absolution for all the things I’d done? Was Oscar himself the way God would forgive me? Because I’d taken such good care of him and continued to cherish and protect him?
Some would argue that there wasn’t any goodness in what had sprung up between Oscar and me so long ago in Dawson City, but I knew that there was. I knew it with the same conviction I knew the sun would come up each day and set each night.
And sitting here on the settee in Clarence and Irene’s sitting room, listening to Oscar sing, I felt God working through him to show me that I was still his child, even though I’d been led astray by cruel and heartless men for so long, and that I had every chance at happiness in this town.
A hushed silence filled the space as the last notes of the song drifted away. Then Irene said, in reverent tones, “That was beautiful.”
“T’was heavenly,” Clarence agreed. “Thank you.”
T’was tragic, in a way, that I couldn’t show how much Oscar’s performance had affected me, but I smiled like a proud parent instead of running o’er there to grab him in my arms and kiss him.
“Do you know this one?” Irene said, as she started playing a lively tune.
“I think so,” Oscar said as Irene began to sing. He joined in with her, and I watched them having such fun together. Irene had a lovely soprano and matched well with Oscar’s tenor. They performed several pieces, Irene finding songs that Oscar knew, and by the end of it, they were fast friends.
When it got close to midnight, I thanked Clarence and Irene for their hospitality, and Oscar and I got ready to leave. I told Oscar to stay inside with Irene while I went to saddle the horses, and Clarence came along to help.
“I want to thank you for bringing Oscar over tonight. You’ve given me and Irene a Christmas to remember,” Clarence said, as we worked to tack up Onyx and Dixie.
“Clarence,” I said, my emotion still high from Oscar’s hymn and my stifled reaction. “It’s us who should thank the two of you. We never imagined such a fine welcome as this. I’ll remember that meal and your company for a long time. Oscar and I, we ain’t had such good Christmases lately, and I hope this is just the beginning of lots of ’em.”
Clarence regarded me with a contemplative smile.
“Now, Jimmy, these winters in BC are long and lonely. I reckon we’ll have you and Oscar over whenever you like. Irene and Oscar seem to be good friends already. I’ve got a checkerboard and chess pieces we can get out on a Saturday or Sunday. So please, think of our place as your second home.”
“Thank you, Clarence. I surely do appreciate it.”
