And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. - Taylor Caldwell
It hadn't been the smartest move he'd ever made. Hadn't seemed so at the time, but now... He shook his head. Nothing to be done now. He just wished he'd been able to stick around until after Christmas. This would be the first time he'd ever missed Midnight Mass. Instead, he was stuck at a nearly empty bus terminal, waiting for the "official" transportation to Monterey and Fort Ord. The Army didn't give a shit about the holidays. They had a war to fight, after all.
He sighed softly, looking around at the rather cavernous station. He'd had to come early. His roommate was in a rush to get home for his own family's celebration, and Templeton hadn't had money for a taxi. Not when he wouldn't get any Army pay until January. Hopefully. Tony had wished him luck, wryly saying he couldn't really wish him 'Merry Christmas' when he was off to war. Didn't matter. He'd take luck any day. It had definitely been missing lately.
There were only a handful of people around, including a few who looked like the terminal was their preferred 'residence'. Had to admit, he'd rather be heading to Ord than living like that. He'd come too close those months between aging out and starting college.
But there were others here, too. People actually waiting for their bus to arrive. Maybe going some place, or waiting for someone to arrive. They'd sit, dozing, then rouse themselves and glance up at the giant clock before settling down again.
He watched the clock as well. Almost midnight now. He pictured the little church at the orphanage. Just large enough for the staff and the kids. He could see them marching in, half asleep but in awe of seeing the church decked out in all its holy glory...
He noticed the older man manning the ticket desk. He was checking the clock as well. Must be a bus due in soon. Templeton rolled his shoulders, trying to get comfortable on the hard bench. He should be used to that by now, as many hours as he'd spent sitting or kneeling during services. He smiled softly. Truth be told, he did miss those days.
He glanced over at the ticket desk again, noticing the old man moving to a corner of his cubicle. The public address speaker squawked a bit, and then soft music started playing. He recognized the song immediately. "Oh Holy Night".
Yes. It was midnight, on the dot. He sat up a little straighter, the words coming from his mouth almost automatically, but softly. Almost reverently. And then he heard it. The other people in the station, starting to sing or hum along with the recording, but, like he himself, softly.
The song ended. The old man turned off the speakers. People settled back in their seats again, but now they looked around and smiled at each other.
Templeton smiled as well. It wasn't in church, there wasn't any ceremony, no prayers said out loud. But he felt like he really hadn't missed Mass after all.