“Christmas is coming! The goose is getting fat!” sang an old man from a street corner near London’s Tower Bridge. “Please put a penny in the old man’s hat!” Several passersby dropped coins into his hat as he belted out the familiar nursery rhyme. “If you haven’t got a penny, then a ha’penny will do. If you haven’t got a ha’penny, then God bless you!” he sang.
The old man had been standing on the street corner all morning in the blistering cold winter with his hat. In between asking for pennies, he sang Christmas carols to attract more charity. He didn’t mind the cold, but only hoped to collect extra money for those in need at Christmas. Above the skyline, he could see the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
“This is for you,” said a beautiful woman with long, golden hair. Her face glowed, and she emptied her purse into his hat. She left a trail that looked like diamonds in the snow.
“God rest ye, merry gentlemen,” he sang in a deep baritone voice. After he finished the first verse, he kept going for six more.
Although the old man had no family, he was more concerned for his neighbors than he was about himself. The father of the family next door had been out of work for more than six months, watching over his sickly son. The mother had passed away from tuberculosis a few years ago during a very hard winter, and the boy had lost hope.
So, the old man had decided that the rocking horse and train set that he had given the boy last year were not enough—there must also be a goose for Christmas.
“If you haven’t got a ha’penny, then God bless you!” he called to the busy people walking along the Thames River. Most of them carried packages meant for Christmas presents.
The old man watched people drop a penny here, and a ha’penny there. One after the other, they added up, and his efforts amounted to much.
After several hours of singing on the street corner, the old man had enough money to buy a goose for his neighbors. He imagined that the boy and his father would be so excited.
While walking home through Trafalgar Square, he tossed the money in his pocket and placed the black top hat on his head. He admired the Christmas tree in the Square with carolers and circled about it as he sipped spiced apple cider.
On Christmas Eve morning, he set out for Portobello Market in West London for two brilliantly fat Christmas geese: one for himself and one as a gift. Indeed, it would be hard to pick the geese. As lovely as their feathers looked, they must be plucked before cooking. Sometimes, the feathers could be used for a soft pillow for a bed or an armchair.
“Come here goosey!” the old man said, as he chased after the largest goose at the Village Butcher. “Oh, you can’t get away!”
After he caught the first goose, he noticed the rest of the geese at the shop were much smaller. He wished he could find a larger goose for his neighbors.
“Ouch!” he said, as he grabbed the closest goose next to him. Its feathers poked him in the eye. “I’ve got you now!”
Noticing its golden-colored feathers, he thought it was the best of the group. Its coat almost sparkled, and there seemed to be something very special about it.
As the old man walked home with the honking geese swung over his shoulders, he debated which goose to give to the neighbors.
“I think I’ll give the golden goose as the gift,” the old man said. “I’ll cook the large goose and share the leftovers.”
Happy the large goose would provide a hearty Christmas meal the next day, he penned the squawking birds up in the kitchen with helpings of grass. Then, he grabbed his coat and top hat and went to Christmas Eve service at All Souls Church in Langham Place.
The church towered next to the British Broadcasting Corporation, which had played Christmas carols on the radio all day. The old man was looking forward to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II’s annual message on the BBC radio on Christmas afternoon. There was talk that she might decide to televise her speech next year.
“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder,” the All Souls Church choir sang from George Frideric Handel’s Messiah.
The old man thought it was the most beautiful song that he had ever heard and sang harmonies with the choir. Along with the rest of the congregation, he stood to his feet for the “Hallelujah Chorus” toward the end of the piece. It was tradition to stand for that part of the song, all the way back to King George II.
After the service, the old man spotted his neighbors a few pews in front of him, and they looked less than festive.
“Merry Christmas Eve!” the old man said to the neighbor boy. “Early Christmas morning, I will visit you with surprises!”
“We could use a few good surprises,” the boy’s father said, as his son buried his face in his father’s wool coat.
“A penny for your thoughts!” the old man said to the boy. He was so concerned that the boy might not be here for next Christmas. “Now then, it’s going to be the finest Christmas ever. Keep my hat if you’d like. It looks like it’s just your size,” he said, even if it was too big.
“Thank you, kind sir,” the boy said, as the old man placed his hat on the boy’s head.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy’s father said. Then, he took his son’s hand, and they walked out of the church.
The old man sat in the pew for a bit and admired the sanctuary decorated with holly, candles, and garland. He worried that he should have done more to help the sickly boy.
As he rested in the pew, the church emptied—all except for one beautiful woman with long, golden hair, and diamond jewels.
“Don’t I know you?” the old man asked. “I think we met when I was collecting pennies at the Tower Bridge.”
“I’ve seen what you’ve been doing for that boy,” she whispered to him. Then, she sat down next to him in the pew. Even in the church, gem-like diamonds followed her.
“Oh, I’ve just been trying to show a little kindness,” the old man said with a wink.
“Your generosity will save his life, and he will not leave his father alone at Christmas for the years to come,” she said. “Your hat will protect him from the blistering winter wind, and the golden goose will be his new best friend.”
“Pardon me, but who are you?” the old man said. “It was just a hat. Too big for his head.”
When the old man blinked, she disappeared, and he thought maybe he had been speaking to a ghost—or an angel.
“Where did you go? I wasn’t seeing things. You were definitely sitting here with me,” the old man said. “Come back any time!”
As the man walked home through the snow that night, his bare head felt cold, so he wrapped his scarf extra tight. He would need to buy himself a new hat for Christmas, now that the little boy was wearing his hat instead of him.
The next morning, the old man woke up with the sunrise and prepared the larger goose for cooking. Then, he shoved him in the oven and seasoned him with black pepper, salt, paprika, dark brown sugar, and dried rosemary.
On the other hand, the golden goose honked as the old man wrapped a bright red bow on its neck. Then, he grabbed a trumpet and toy soldier from beneath his Christmas tree for the boy. He had wrapped the toys weeks ago.
“Merry Christmas!” the old man said, as he knocked on his neighbor’s door. Then, the neighbor boy opened the door, wearing the old man’s hat.
“It’s just my size,” the little boy said, even if it covered both of his eyes.
“Good day to you!” his father said to the old man.
As the goose waddled into the neighbor’s house, the little boy threw his arms around him, giggled, and laughed.
“We can just cook him up and eat him for Christmas dinner!” the father said and clapped his hands together.
“Noooooo! Father, he’s my new pet!” the little boy said. “We can’t eat him! His feathers are so soft. I could use him for a pillow.”
“Don’t worry, I have another goose cooking,” the old man said, as the little boy’s father sighed. “Let them be friends.”
“Are these for me?” the little boy said, as he noticed the gifts that the old man held under his arms.
“Very much indeed,” the old man said. He walked into the family’s home and sat next to the dwindling fireplace. “Father Christmas gave me the presents to give to you!”
The little boy grabbed the packages and ripped the wrapping paper off.
“Thank you for your generosity,” the father said, as he wiped a tear from his eye.
“Excellent! I love the toys,” the little boy said. He blew the trumpet long and hard. Then, he gave the old man a big hug. “I’ve always wanted a toy soldier.”
As the old man looked out the window, he spied the beautiful woman from the church as she walked down the street. The trail of gem-like snow followed her again.
“Merry Christmas!” the old man said. He swung open the front door, but the woman had vanished before he could find her.
All that remained was a trail of sparkling snow that resembled perfect diamonds. The wind blew them toward the old man, and at first, he thought they were icicles. He caught them in his hand, not realizing they were actual diamonds until they felt hard as rocks and would not melt. In awe, he put them in his pocket and whispered a prayer of thanksgiving.
“Thank you, Lord,” the old man said and sang from “The Hallelujah Chorus. “And He shall reign forever and ever.”
“Who was that?” the little boy asked. “She was so pretty that she looked like an angel.”
“I spotted a friend out the window!” the old man said. “She just might be an angel. Now come along. We can listen to the Queen’s Christmas message on my radio.”
In the weeks ahead, the Christmas Goose and the little boy became such good friends that the little boy never felt sick again. There was something magical about the goose. In fact, it lay dozens of goose eggs, more than would be expected. And as legend has it, when no one was looking, the goose even laid a golden egg, or two, or three, or four. When the golden eggs were sold, they made enough money to buy every toy in the toy store.
As for the diamonds, they turned out to be real, and the old man had no explanation other than the beautiful woman was an angel. Of course, only an angel would know how icicles became diamonds. The diamonds provided enough money for the father to take care of his son. He never lacked any money for doctor bills or medicines, and his son grew strong and healthy. His son also became an expert trumpet player. Then, his father remarried a beautiful wife from the choir at All Souls Church. During the wedding, the old man was sure that he saw the beautiful woman with long, golden hair, as she left another trail of diamonds. And it was all because of an old man with a hat who asked for pennies during Christmas.
Copyright 2016 Jennifer Waters
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