So, in theory, 12th night (last night) and 3 Kings’ Day (today) should be the high point of Christmas. In my fantasy life, that’s how I do things, with a big party and all the presents saved up for the end of the holiday, and Wassailing the neighborhood and “hunting” a wren. Maybe someday. Some years I have a 12th night party, which is a good start.

Epiphany is the day the 3 Wise Men reach Bethlehem and deliver the goods to Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, who are the classic patchwork family. Mary and Joseph both stretch the boundaries of what’s acceptable in their society in order to make room for the family God gives them. Stuck in a stable, which isn’t really ideal: social services would probably make an investigation, but since it’s only temporary, I doubt they’d get too involved. Anyway, hence presents for children at Christmas. Meanwhile, in England, the holiday gets combined with some sort of pagan ritual involving wrens. Wassailing is good stuff: sing to your neighbors to wish them well, sing to the apple trees to get more apples in the new year.

This year, it’s like this: yesterday lil E had to stay after school so she and A ended up needing a ride home. I had said “any time,” so I canceled some afternoon appointments, called it a day at work, and went to pick them up. Lately things are pretty turbulent at home, so we went to the library instead, to work on homework, and then we walked around downtown and got snacks at the coffeeshop. They asked me if they could have coffee and I said no; a while ago they asked if they could have wine, and I said no. It seems to make E very happy when she asks for something stupid and gets told no – like it’s reassuring. What she needs from adults is so little, it really is heartbreaking.

Today, she didn’t want to ride home on the bus – who would? – so she called for a ride again. It would be silliness any other time, but she’s really reaching around for her support system right now, sort of barely hanging on to the idea that grownups are good for anything at all. So of course I left work and picked up the girls and we went to Bojangles and ate french fries.  But all afternoon there were many difficult phone calls, with yelling and crying.  Her family wants her to come home, but I’m afraid with things the way they are, it’s going to be a long while before that can happen.

I’m sad that she isn’t living with me, but I can see that she wouldn’t really be able to – too close to home in too many ways.  There’s some talk about legal custody arrangements, which is good, and although of course I’m jealous of A’s family I think they’re the best option for E right now.  Meanwhile, A’s mother has agreed I can take the girls rollerskating or to the Scrap Exchange this weekend if they clean their room.

E’s angry and depressed and worried and exhausted and distracted, and she’s only twelve, and she can’t go home. Oh, and her hair is blue. Well, more green, actually, but it’s cute. She looks like a mermaid.

Worried about my girl today.

She can do without the inscrutable wise men, but I’m pretty sure she walks around with a star over her head. I am wishing my neighbors well tonight, and hoping for apples.