“Yes, one hundred bills… crisp, preferably.” A fair skinned older woman was withdrawing money from the bank. Her expression was that of what some would call a snob, likely because she was indeed, a snob; she would have only the best, nothing less would suit her tastes. She took the money from the bank teller and after examining the bills, gave a slight nod of appreciation. She stuffed the bills into an unsigned run-of-the-mill card and sealed them into a blank white envelope. She took out a black fountain pen and scribbled “To: Remmy From: Kerry” on the front.

Her sleek black Cadillac made its way back down the road that was packed with shoppers making their last-minute shopping expeditions. After a few minutes waiting to move, her vision got fuzzy. She took some Motrin and busied herself by looking around at the shoppers. One in particular caught her eye. A young girl, no older than seven or eight, was standing outside a jewelry shop with a small green change purse open in her hand. She had her eye on a necklace with a heart-shaped pendant that read “Mom”

She glanced warily up at the sign, and then released the contents of her change purse onto a small space on the sidewalk. She stared at the variety of coins, and after a few seconds of deliberation, gathered them back up and solemnly left the store window, with a not so much as a sole glance back at the necklace. Kerry sneered. “Silly child! Only the best can afford that type of gift.” Christmas was swiftly approaching, but somehow the spirit of the season never seemed to rub off on her. Traffic began to move, and as suddenly as it had come upon her, her blurred vision vanished and she could see well again.

She slowly inched along the crowded road until she reached the entrance to her neighborhood. Passing by rows and rows of houses, she thought to herself how tacky each and every one was and how the decorations of the season could be gone without a single tear shed on her part.

As Kerry entered the house, the smell of fresh pine met her. She crinkled her nose at the smell. Her daughter had almost finished decorating the tree. The masterpiece looked as if it had been plucked from a Christmas card and placed smack dab in the middle of their living room. Brightly colored balls lined its branches, and a narrow string of tinsel wound around, filling the empty spaces and adding a subtle flare. Kerry glanced into her daughter’s bright green eyes and then looked at the tree with blatant distaste.

“I saved the star for you!” said the girl happily. Kerry’s daughter Remmy was 16. She had left the star off the tree every year for her mother, and every year she had been turned down. Every year she had the same hope that her mother would simply place the star atop the tree to please her, but every year she had been let down. This year she hoped would be different, but this year again would be like the rest.
“I’ve no use for decorations, Remmy. They’re a waste of time and a waste of money, and I will have no part in littering the carpet with pine needles, either.”

Disappointed, Remmy retracted the star and placed it back in its box. Even though it was nine years old, it still looked new. It had never been used, and Remmy had bought it for her mom when she was seven.