Mr. James loved Christmas very much. Probably, this was his favourite day of the year.
When he was a little child his home was always full of guest on Christmas Eve. He and his father used to drive on their old pickup to meet them at the airport. He always loved this special feeling when standing in front of the sliding doors in the arrivals hall and, holding the breath, waiting for them to open and Aunt Martha, cousin Nick and beloved grandfather Valentin, would come through them. After the tears of joy of Aunt Martha and cuddles with grandpa and cousin they all sat down in a pickup truck and drove home, where Mr. James's mother was already dogging a festive dinner.
Every expectation of a meeting at the airport and a warm thrill before opening of that sliding door in the arrival hall deeply imprinted on Mr. James’s soul. Who knows, maybe that's why adult Mr. James turned out to be an airport employee. No, no, he did not become a pilot, did not work as an engineer and did not check the passports of those who were leaving. He brewed "Illy" coffee and made sandwiches in a small cozy cafe in the arrival hall, where people were waiting for somebody, just like he used to when he was a child.
Mr. James loved his work and every sandwich and cup of coffee served to the guest were made with love. It was impossible not to feel it! Therefore, pilots, police officers, and girls from duty free shops were regular guests of his cafe ; taxi and bus drivers ran in for a small talk and a drink of the most excellent coffee in the district. Guests were waiting here for their relatives and friends, chatting about this and that with Mr. James, and the arriving visitors were waiting for those who were late with a hot sandwich and a cup of cappuccino, exhaling the exhaustion of the tedious road.
When Mr. James’s cafe was empty, he liked to lean on the bar counter and gaze with delight at how people crowded in anticipation on this side of the sliding door at the arrival hall. Someone was holding a sign with a name, someone was holding a bunch of flowers, and someone was hugging a child who (like little Mr. James) was taken to the airport to meet guests. But the most important sacrament occurred when the doors opened and the eyes of those who flew in found in the crowd of strangers the faces of their loved ones. Tears of joy, hugs, kisses of lovers, and even cold handshakes created a special magic of this place. It seemed that it was leaking into all cells of the airport, and especially into a soul of Mr. James.
At the moments like this somewhere in the depths of himself, Mr. James was elated with happiness and at the same time a little sad. He was sad that his parents were no longer around, that grandfather Valentine and his aunt Martha would not come to him, that no one would come out of those doors and hug him with sincere joy and anticipation of the meeting. Mr. James was especially sad when Christmas Eve came and the memories of childhood and adolescence wrapped him in an invisible cobweb. But he continued to brew coffee "illy" and make sandwiches with the same love, and this helped him to drive the sad thoughts away. It was even easier for him to forget about anxiety when he was watching the warm meetings at the sliding door in the arrival hall.
The closer the main winter holiday approached, the happier the meetings were, the more tears of happiness, smiles and laughter lingered on people's faces. On the morning of Christmas Eve there were a lot of flights and Mr. James could barely make coffee and prepare toast. At the same time, he did not miss the chance to glance at the reverent meetings at the door of the arrival hall.
The last flight with delayed guests was supposed to arrive late in the evening. Mr. James was wondering who were these people, flying at Christmas time? Probably bankers and salespeople who had lingered on a transfer or were late for an earlier flight, or maybe just the passengers who were lucky enough to buy the last tickets at the ticket office. In any case, Mr. James didn’t have to hurry home - nobody expected him there anyway, and therefore he was not averse to witness more joyful meetings at the airport.
The cafe was already empty, and the speakerphone announced that the last flight arrived today. Mr. James took usual observant position at the bar and turned his eyes on a sliding door at the arrival hall. There were few people in the waiting room, and this was not surprising. Everyone was preparing to meet Christmas at their homes, and those who arrived late would have to catch the last bus alone. But Mr. James did not dare to miss this opportunity to rejoice at the meetings of strangers.
The doors of the arrival hall solemnly opened and people with small suitcases, gift bags and packages rolled out of them. But what was it - on the way to the exit, they all turned in the direction of the cafe and Mr. James perplexedly stepped out from behind the bar counter to meet them. Having approached Mr. James, the first one smiled and hugged Mr. James and wished him a Merry Christmas. A second man came up behind him - an elderly old man with a big sports bag and again, with a smile, hugged Mr. James and congratulated him on Christmas Eve. After him, Mr. James was hugged by a young girl, then her boyfriend, then a man in a business suit, then another, then a woman, then ... Each passenger of the last flight before Christmas approached Mr. James and hugged him like in times, when he was a little child. Merry Christmas, Mr. James.
***
The last flight before Christmas was landing and the pilot made an announcement about local time and weather overboard.
Dear passengers! In the arrival hall there is one person who is waiting for each of you. He will be very happy to warm hugs and your smile. The place where you can meet him is the bar counter of the fast cafe in the arrival hall.
Merry Christmas!