Theodore: A Christmas Story

1924

The young Atlanta couple sat in their large cold mansion on Peachtree Street.  John and Anita Bowles had been married for five years but the room that was supposed to be the nursery still sat empty.  John read his copy of the The Atlanta Constitution newspaper and Anita quietly wrote a letter. You could have heard a mouse burp.

Anita looked at the love of her life and prayed for what she really wanted in all the world — A child. And what better time for her to receive a precious child than Christmas. So she did what she loved to do as a little girl.  She wrote Santa.

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a good little girl this year.  All I want this year is a little girl.  A boy would be nice, too. But I want a little girl who I can spoil and raise to be as lucky as I am.

Anita.

Santa still listens to good girls even if they are grown up and by Christmas of 1925, Anita and John Bowles were blessed with a child named Dorothy Elizabeth Bowles.  They had never been happier.

1929

The Stock Market crashed and John lost his high-paying job as a banker. Like many Americans he watched as their American Dream turned into a nightmare. The house was gone. The car was, too. So were the fine clothes. Even the radio had to be sold. All John and Anita had left were each other. And their precious little girl.  As long as they had Dorothy, they’d be happy.

1933

John had become a migrant worker so the family bounced from shotgun house to shotgun house all across North Georgia.  That Christmas, Dorothy did like her mama had before her: She wrote Santa. Dorothy so wanted a puppy.  And since her parents had said no repeatedly, she was appealing to a higher court.

That Christmas morning, there was no puppy. The thought of another mouth to feed was too much for John and Anita, so Santa put something else under the tree — a beautiful box with Dorothy’s name on it.  Dorothy opened it and found a note that read:

Dear Dorothy,

I’m sorry but we were fresh out of puppies. But I did find you a special friend named Theodore. Love him and he will always love you back.

Love, Santa

Dorothy pushed back the tissue paper to find a brown fuzzy teddy bear. She pulled him out of the box and hugged him as hard as she could.  “I’m sure Santa will get you a puppy eventually dear, but Theodore will always be there for you.” Her mother comforted her with her words and it was Dorothy’s best Christmas ever.

1935

The economy had worsened and John was struggling to find work.  Anita had taken up odd sewing jobs and managed to bring in a few dollars.  But it wasn’t enough.  That December, John and Anita sat Dorothy down and broke the devastating news to her.

“You are going to have to live with your Aunt Barbara in Marietta. It’s only temporary and we’ll come see you as often as we can. But there’s work in the Tennessee Valley and I’ve got to see if I can get a job up there.  Your mom and I will come get you as soon as we can.”

Dorothy clutched Theodore as tight as she could.

1936

Dorothy was cooking dinner in her aunt’s kitchen when there was a knock on the front door. Her aunt got up from her sewing and opened the door to see a policeman.  While Dorothy could not hear the conversation clearly she heard, “truck”, “car”, “crash” and “fatalities”.

Dorothy ran and hid in the cellar. She sat in the dark crying as hard as she could while clutching Theodore tightly.  Even Santa could not bring her parents home for Christmas.

1945

Dorothy worked the swing shift at the Bell Bomber plant in Marietta, Georgia.  She spent most of her time working on wiring harnesses for the modern miracle known as the B-29 Superfortress.  “This baby will win the war for us!” boasted her supervisors.  Dorothy had hoped so. So many of her classmates would not be coming home due to the war.

August brought the end of World War 2 and Dorothy retired from working life.  She decided to go to college and get an education.  “What do you think, Theodore? Think I got what it takes to get educated?”  Not many women her age still had teddy bears, but Theodore was different. He was her connection to the two people she loved the most.

But soon there came a third.

She saw him step off the train at the Marietta Train Station. He was a Captain, blonde, covered with ribbons and walked with a slight limp.  Captain Frank Johnson was an aviator in the U.S. Army Air Force and had shot down 12 Japanese fighters.  And he was also the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on.  He said hello. She said hello back and soon she was walking down the aisle at St. James Episcopal Church near the Marietta Square.

1950

After their wedding, Frank and Dorothy had quickly set up housekeeping.  Frank went to law school at night. Dorothy took care of their precious twins John and Anita by day (and night. ) One day as they were driving down Peachtree Street in Atlanta, Dorothy noticed a beautiful mansion for sale.  Frank had a little inheritance money and they closed on the house on November 1st.  By  Christmas, the family of four celebrated Christmas in the very room where her mother had written Santa asking for her.  Dorothy looked at her beloved bear and clutched Theodore as tightly as she could.

1956

Firemen never figured out exactly where the fire started, but the best guess was an electrical short in the Christmas lights.  They had awakened to thick, black smoke and Frank heroically grabbed the twins out of their beds. All four ran out the front door right as the roof exploded into flames. Smoke poured out of the old mansion as it rapidly became an inferno.  Dorothy, stunned, hugged her children as tightly as she could. But they she realized she didn’t have him. Theodore was still in house. She started running back toward the flames screaming, “THEODORE!  THEODORE!”  A sharp pain hit her back as she suddenly hit the ground. Frank had tackled her and pinned her down.  She lay on the ground sobbing uncontrollably as her last connection to her parents turned to ash.

1957-2010

Like most of the Greatest Generation, Frank and Dorothy lived a spectacular life.  Both were responsible for many of the great institutions that make Atlanta the world class city that it is today.  The twins grew up and had kids of their own.  John moved to California and became a lawyer like his dad.  Anita became a vice-president of a local bank.  Every Christmas they’d come visit their parents and Frank and Dorothy would bask in the love of their grandchildren.  And every Christmas, Frank would search everywhere for a bear just like Theodore. But for nearly 50 years, he was unsuccessful.

2011

Age has a way of playing cruel tricks on the human body.  Cancer cells multiplied rapidly in Frank’s lungs, taking his life.  Dorothy moved out of their house  and into a nursing home.  Years of smoking had taken its toll on her lungs as well and she now was permanently on oxygen.  As she told Anita, “Getting old is not for wimps.”  She watched as her friends began to die off.  And for the first time since the day her parents died, she felt lonely.

So she picked up a pen and a pad and began to write,

Dear Santa,

Thank you for bringing me all the Christmas blessings over the years.  My life has been amazing. My children could not love me more.  But I just want to ask you for one more thing before I die.  Could you please bring me Theodore back?  That’s all I want for Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Dorothy

She carefully put the letter in an envelope, pushed her walker down to the mailbox and mailed the request to the North Pole.  All she could do now was wait.

Dec. 25, 2011

One of the guards saw him on the monitor.  The orderly had a long white beard and a twinkle in his eye.  The guard didn’t move at first but then did a double take when he realized he had never seen him before.  So just to be sure, he got up from behind the front desk and went down the hall to check on the patients.  When the he peeked into Dorothy’s room, he noticed her sleeping peacefully in her bed.  And there, tucked in her arm was an old brown fuzzy teddy bear with a tag on it that read, “Theodore.”

As the guard walked out of the room, he turned and looked at the woman one more time.  Dorothy Elizabeth Bowles Johnson had a smile on her face and was dreaming of the day her parents would come and get her.