Patch lay awake thinking. In the cold room that was supposed to be called a bedroom. He slept with 11 other boys in this State Orphanage in Dublin where he had lived since the accident. Sooty his dog slept on the floor beside him. Dublin was the city which Patch dearly wanted to explore. He thought of the orphanage as a prison and not as a home for him. He had tried to escape from it many times, none successfully. He was thinking about another way to escape. Just then, the bell rang. Mr. Collins, the strict and by-the-rules owner of the orphanage, stood by the cold pot of porridge, as the boys from each of the 7 bedrooms entered. The old, battered, filthy, disgusting and vile cook ladled out tiny half-bowlfuls of thick porridge. None of the children looked happy as they quickly gobbled what you were supposed to call breakfast.
Afterwards they started to clean the house. As they were clearly under-nourished, some of them were fainting from the fumes of the cleaning liquid. By the time they were finished it was dinnertime and they all ran greedily to the dining room. They were excited because today Mr. Collins had promised them some fish. True, it wasn’t much but it was there and that was all that mattered. After dinner they had a couple of hours free time until bedtime so they spent this trying to enjoy themselves. About an hour after they had gone to bed and Mr. Collins had done his nightly round, Patch slipped out of bed and called softly to Sooty to follow him. Quietly he opened one of the windows and sneaked outside onto the window ledge. He stuffed Sooty inside his old, tattered, torn jacket and set off down the ladder. The gate wasn’t too hard for him so after a few attempts he finally succeeded in escaping. Now to rediscover what Christmas was like on the outside.
At last Patch was free. It was great be out of the orphanage after all these years, but after walking a few miles his hands and feet were numb with the bitter cold and being so tired, cold and hungry he decided to look for a place to sleep until the morning. At last he found a stable at the end of a narrow alleyway. Both boy and dog huddled together to keep warm. Sleep came slowly. That night he dreamt of his parents. He wondered what they looked like before the accident. Mr. Collins him that they had died in a fire and that his father had heroically rescued him from the fire. Nobody ever saw his father, Alan, or his mother, Deirdre, again. Whenever Patch talked about it to Mr Collins he always changed the subject. It saddened him because Mr. Collins was a neighbour of Patch when he was a baby.
He was awakened from his dreams when a stable boy came to check on the horses. Patch and Sooty made their escape. They ran and ran until eventually the smell of cooking drew him to a house. Patch ran up the driveway peered through the window and saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. In the corner of the room he saw the most beautifully decorated tree with red ribbons with an angel on top plus lots of presents under it. On the other side of the room was a blazing fire, with a cat sleeping beside it. In an other room he could hear people laughing and he could see lots of steaming food being brought into the room. Just then Sooty barked at the tabby cat sitting contentedly beside the fire.
Suddenly, a girl opened the door and asked if there was anyone there. Patch froze wondering what would happen next. Suddenly the girl spoke. “Who are you,” she whispered. Patch, reluctant to speak, spoke as Sooty started wagging his tail. He was always good at recognising friendly or not so friendly people. "I’m Patch. I’m sorry for troubling you.” “Maria,” the girl’s father spoke, ”what’s all that commotion out there?” Her father was in the living room and luckily he didn’t see Patch. “Nothing. I’m just oh... wondering what that noise was,” she replied. With that she turned around. Patch and Sooty had vanished and she wanted to talk to him. Then she closed the door and went into the back kitchen. Patch was famished with hunger and was freezing standing with his only ally, Sooty. But they were a team, born to survive in the outskirts of Dublin.
Just then Patch thought of a plan. He climbed over the high stake fence and went around the back of Maria’s house. “Come on Sooty,” he urged with a humorous smile. His poor black terrier, which he had found as a stray was stuck between an opening in the fence. Patch then pulled him free and through the rough forest-like surroundings made his way to the backdoor. It was two days to Christmas Day and he was desperately looking for comfort for this lonely time of year. Maria was washing the dishes on her own in the kitchen. She spotted Patch and Sooty’s shadows. With a blink of an eye she opened the door and made sure that Patch wouldn’t run off. “E....e....excuse me Maria could you spare me a bit of food?” asked Patch as he trembled with the cold. “Yeah, sure come on in,” she replied, “Dad won’t see you ‘cause he’s in the living-room.” Patch followed Maria into the kitchen and together they ate ham and turkey sandwiches with tea. “Where can I stay?” asked Patch through mouthfuls of bread. “If you like you can stay in the tree-house,” replied Maria. She got a sleeping bag out of a cupboard and spread it out on the ground. As soon as he slipped into it he fell asleep. “Maria, get back in here right now!” her father yelled. “I’d better go inside,” Maria said but it was too late: Patch had already fallen asleep. As she came back inside her house she heard her father listening to the 11.00 news. “Have you seen this boy?” a voice called out, “if so please ring this number, 555-4321.” It showed a description of Patch. “His name is “Martin O ‘Brien and he has a nickname of Patch.”
That night Maria lay awake in bed. After a long time she decided to wait and see what the next morning would bring. Next morning Patch came out of the tree house feeling very relaxed after a good nights sleep. Patch wanted to thank Maria for being so kind to him. Then he saw a newspaper thrown on the porch, with a picture of himself, written above it “MISSING”. The colour faded from his face and his legs felt weak. He was determined he would never return to the orphanage. The memories were too painful. He slipped quietly through the garden fence and made his way sadly towards the city. He continued on until he heard a group of carol singers singing “Silent Night”. He stood entranced listening to their beautiful singing. By now the first snowflakes began to flutter in the cold morning breeze. By the time they had finished singing the pavements had become a carpet of white gleaming snow. People were busy dashing in and out of shops doing their Christmas shopping. In the middle of all this commotion Patch felt very much alone. He looked in a shop window beside him, which was decorated with flashing Christmas lights, tinsel and red berried holly. In the middle of it lay a big teddy bear. Immediately he was back in his father’s sitting room, under the Christmas Tree playing with his teddy bear in his comfortable, fashionable, well appointed house in Rathgar. He was awakened from his dreams by a familiar growl. “Caught you, you little brat” Mr Collins roared, as he grabbed Patch by the ear. Sooty realising Patch was in trouble sank his sharp teeth into Mr Collins’s fleshy ankle. Howling with pain Collins let go of Patch’s ear. As Patch rounded the corner he could vaguely hear Mr Collins shout “come back here you little blackguard”.
Patch was safe at last, because Mr. Collins couldn’t run as his delicate flesh was torn badly. “Thanks a million!” whispered Patch, patting Sooty on the head, "I thought I was a goner. But I don’t know what we’re going to do now.” Patch’s feet were numb with cold as the soft snowflakes tumbled gently from the sky. Sudden thoughts of horror struck him. The day of the accident came into view. The smoke, burning flames, arms grabbing him, his mother screaming.....” Nooooo!” screamed Patch as he woke from his dreams. A layer of sweat covered his pale face, the dark sky and the twinkling stars shining down on him. “I’ve got to find Maria!” he mumbled to Sooty, ”We’ll sleep in this skip tonight. Mr. Collins won’t find us here!” This city was filled with the Christmas spirit but the people in it weren’t. A Christmas Tree stood in the centre of the city. It was laden with a variety of decorations and a layer of snow and a bright star at the top. The sound of Christmas Caroller’s merry songs rang in Patch’s ears as he fell asleep for the second time. The next morning Patch ran as fast as he could and came to a sudden halt outside Maria’s house. He had accidentally bumped into one of the city guards. “Watch where you’re going young lad,” snorted the guard. “Ah sorry,” Patch mumbled shaking with fear. “Aren’t you the orphan who escaped from Mr. Collins orphanage,” asked the guard and with that he grabbed Patch’s hand and headed in the direction of the orphanage. Maria had seen Patch from her bedroom window but hadn’t said a thing. The guard had now driven Patch back to the orphanage and Patch was sick with worry.
He and the guard waited in Mr. Collins office until Mr. Collins came in. The orphanage was decorated with tattered and torn tinsel on the stairs and inside the door stood the most miserable looking tree you ever saw. Mr. Collins limped into the office staring at Patch with a threatening look in his eyes. "Look who we've got here," he snorted as he sat down on his chair. After a couple of minutes the guard left and Patch was sent to the kitchen to clear up after dinner. He knew that Mr. Collins would always make him do the horrible jobs and he would never forget what Patch did. That evening Patch was sent to bed an hour before everyone else but he didn’t care because all he wanted to do was to curl up on his bed and cry. Mr. Collins came into the room to make sure he was in bed and then he saw him crying. "Why didn't you ever tell me my real name," Patch asked, "and is the story about the fire true?" "The story about your parents is true and I never told you your real name because, well, I didn't want you to start looking for your parents and getting your hopes up," answered Mr. Collins. Patch rubbed his eyes and fell asleep. The next morning when he got up everything was the same, even breakfast. It was Christmas Eve and outside was the sound of Christmas Carollers.
Back at Maria's house she had worked up the courage to tell her parents about Patch sleeping in the tree house. They were gob smacked and they knew Maria had meant well. She told them how he was meanly treated in the orphanage and how his parents were killed in a fire. They felt sorry for Patch that he wouldn't have a family for Christmas or probably for the rest of his boyhood life. Maria begged her parents could they adopt him and look after him. "Maria we can't do that we don’t have the time," her father explained. "How would you like to spend Christmas in an orphanage?" Maria cried and with that she stamped off to her room. It was now dinner time at the orphanage and Patch still had no family. Thoughts of Christmas ran through his mind and what it would be like for people on the outside. After dinner Patch went up to his room and sat on his window. He watched the beauty of the falling snowflakes each completely different and unique and he started to daydream again.
He was awoken from his dream when Mr. Collins started calling him. He ran downstairs to see Maria and Sooty standing there with her parents. "We would love to foster you for Christmas and if everything works out you can become part of our family," gasped Maria's mother. On Christmas morning Patch ran into the sitting room with Maria to find a pile of presents under the glistening tree for him and Sooty. That Christmas was one that would sticking his mind every day of his life. "Thank you Maria for this wonderful family. Without you it would only be a dream!"
The End.
