The Rev. Dr. Edward MacDonald celebrates a Vigil for All Hallows’ Eve. He and the rest of the family meet Mikki for the first time.

I. The Vigil for All Hallows’ Eve

The first time that I ever saw “Mikki” was, strangely enough, in church. Hallowe’en is the name given to All Hallows’ Eve, or the Eve of All Saints’ Day, which is a very holy day in the Anglican calendar. One of the tough roles that a preacher’s kid must play is showing up at church when you’d rather be doing something else. Now, I never had objected in any way to Keiko letting the kids dress up and participating in Hallowe’en parties or going out for tricks-or-treats. That’s part of growing up as far as I’m concerned, so I don’t perceive the harm in it that the strictest fundamentalists do. Some folks certainly know how to take the “fun” out of “fundamentalism,” while others don’t even allow the celebration of Christmas! But anyway, as my children got older, I insisted that they attend all the Holy Days of Obligation, including All Saints’ Day.

The Hallowe’en before we left New York, Akiko and Michael begged to go to a party with their friends. But since they both were scheduled as the acolytes for that evening, they had to be at church for the Vigil on the Eve of All Saints’ Day. So, they agreed to get there right after the party and also, to arrive in time to change out of their costumes, if they were inappropriate for church or might not fit under their vestments. Our acolytes would wear simple floor-length black cassocks with white, lace-trimmed cottas reaching not quite to the waist. Most kids growing up in Catholic, Anglican, or Episcopal churches have worn such vestments. This was a big deal for us, because Keiko’s face always lights up whenever she sees any of our children vested “in choir.” It simply delights her as a mother.

Since Akiko identifies so strongly with her mother and dreams of following her into nursing, she already had volunteered as a candy-striper at my wife’s hospital. But she did not wish to wear her traditional red-and-white jumper as a costume, since for her, it is actually a work uniform. So, Keiko let her borrow one of her white nurse dresses with a pair of white work shoes for the party. And Akiko was no less striking than she was cute wearing it, although she does not quite resemble her mother. Her classic Eurasian features testify as much to my own Scots-Irish ancestry as to her mother’s Japanese heritage.

But genetics is a funny thing and Michael’s face looks entirely like his mother’s with a cute nose and prominent epicanthic folds in his eyes, very Asian, although he definitely inherited wavier hair from my curlier, dark brown locks instead of Keiko’s straight, jet black hair. And for a boy he is short and likely to remain so, since both Keiko and I are below average height. But he hopes that he may yet match Akiko’s growth. In any case, his appearance most definitely favors his mother.

We were not ready for the game that Akiko and Michael were about to play for Hallowe’en. He had planned to wear a rather elaborate space soldier’s uniform modeled after a recent science fiction movie, but it would not fit under his cassock and taking it off would be a major operation. So he was disappointed, but was keen on keeping his appointment as an acolyte. Then Akiko came up with the idea of another costume for her brother. And being a very curious fellow, Michael is always looking for another new adventure to try. So with a little work they managed to put a good one over on me!

Our usual protocol before a service was that I would meet with the acolytes and other servers in the vestry for prayer. Then we would immediately join the choristers to process into the nave. But for the Eve of All Saints, I would need to take extra time to verify that the Intercessor had the correct and complete list of names of the Faithfully Departed who would be remembered that night. In such cases, I would ask Ron MacPhail, our Verger and Master of Ceremonies to lead prayer for the acolytes and other servers, so I did not actually meet with Akiko and Michael before we began.

During any service, I always try to identify Keiko and the children wherever they might be. Keiko usually sits somewhere along the outer perimeter of the nave, so she can make an unobtrusive exit quicky, if needed, since she is often on call at the hospital. The kids then sit with her, unless they are either serving as acolytes or choristers or seated with friends. But Keiko was not on call, so she sat in a forward pew near the aisle with Gabriel and Mitsumi, still in their Hallowe’en costumes. At a glance I had noticed Akiko serving as one of the acolytes illuminating the Gospel as she often does on one side of me, with Michael on the other. But I could not seem to find Michael among them. There was another teenaged Asian girl serving opposite Akiko instead. I did not recognize her and she might be a new acolyte whom I had not met, perhaps willing to stand in for Michael. In any case, she certainly knew what she was doing. Likely the Verger had my son serving elsewhere and this new girl was willing and able to fill his shoes.

Yet, he might have been serving in another capacity where he would not be immediately visible to me. Sometimes the Master of Ceremonies must switch assigned duties among the acolytes if someone does not show up as scheduled, or is otherwise not able to do an assigned task. Michael and Akiko were both adept at all the various operations going on both up front and in the vestry; Gabriel was just learning them, while Mitsumi’s participation was still limited to the children’s choir and the Christmas pageant.

The service proceeded without any difficulties. The Vigil for the Eve of All Saints Day at our church has always been a very moving service, and sometimes highly emotional, as parishioners remember their departed loved ones. The Vigil began about ten o’clock that evening and every effort was made to time it so that Holy Communion took place at midnight.

As they would begin so late, vigils were possible only because of a very dedicated cadré of older teenaged girls and selfless women willing to staff our nursery and playroom for pre-school children. These younger kids mostly would fall asleep by the conclusion of a vigil. And after Hallowe’en, parents would be claiming their grumpy, sleepy-eyed princesses with folded butterfly wings and tiaras cocked to the side, carrying fatigued warriors with little scabbards dangling from their belts. Of course, mothers and fathers had picked up all the dropped wands, swords, shields and horned and winged helmets.

Well, I had not seen Michael during the Vigil, so I asked the Verger if he had seen him. He said that he had not. I was beginning seriously to be concerned that something was not as it should be. Then I followed up by asking Ron if there were any unexpected duties that might need Michael elsewhere during the Vigil. When Ron said that the only reassignment had been due to Michael’s absence, my anxiety level began to increase. Then Ron remarked that the new girl, Mikki, seemed quite competent, so he asked her to take his place. Wondering if she knew to sign in, he leafed through a few pages of his clipboard and, nonetheless, noted that Michael had signed in. He showed it to me and I carefully verified it. It was indeed Michael’s own signature. He had come to church as promised. But where could he have been? Something was amiss.

Maybe, though, he might be assisting in the organ loft or even at the sound and lighting console. He knew how to operate it and he would take over if there were no one else there to run things. Indeed, it could be hard to know if he were irresponsible on the one hand, or perhaps too responsible on the other.

I needed to return to the vestry anyway, so I went as quickly as I could hoping that I might find him there as usual, putting away his vestments. Then I saw Akiko in a nurse’s dress, while her new friend wore a candy-striper’s uniform, white hose, and red patent leather maryjanes, her hair in a ponytail secured by a large white bow.

“Dad, this is Mikki.”

I smiled anxiously but politely to her as I had to raise the question to my daughter. “Excuse me, Mikki,” I begged, turning to face Akiko. “Have you seen your brother anywhere in church tonight?”

Then she broke into one of her fits of giggles while a voice behind me answered, “I’m here, Dad.” I spun around seeing only Mikki there, but Akiko giggled louder and sillier.

“So, Dad, whatcha think?” he asked, but speaking as Mikki. He (or she?) smiled, briefly holding up the hem of his jumper and subtly bending his crossed legs to offer a quick, half-curtsey. “How do I look?”

“What?” I wondered aloud, quite stunned by what was unfolding before me. My son seemed at once both embarassed and emboldened. Despite his darker complexion, he seemed to blush just as would a teen-age girl his age, and yet, his wide-eyed stare had forced me to acknowledge that he had achieved his objective to take me completely by surprised.

Then Akiko’s giggling became fully squealing laughter as Michael joined her in a warm sisterly hug. I could no longer resist and relaxed into a good affirming chuckle of my own. I went to hug them both, myself, acknowledging that they had succeeded in pulling a good one over on Dad. And as guys like to do, I was also about to reward him with a playful swat across the back of the head, but when the big white bow on his high-up ponytail inadvertently caught my open hand, cushioning him from the blow, the giggles and guffaws redoubled once more.

“Son, you’re as cute a girl as your sister!” I said, trying to divert some of my own embarassment.

“Of course,” Akiko interjected. “I wouldn’t have him look anything less wearing my clothes! But I must say that Michael was an especially willing and able participant. I had quite a few old dresses, shoes and other things that fit him. I used to dress him up when we were younger, so I suggested we try it again. We spent a few hours getting him ready. Quite an effective makeover, don’t you think?

“It fooled me,” I admitted. “At first I thought that maybe she was one of your new girlfriends. He really looks like a girl!”

A moment later Keiko came by the vestry with an exhausted Space-Captain Gabriel and a very sleepy Princess Mitsumi. After a double take, my wife stared right at our son, her mouth agape, and her eyes opened more widely than I had seen in quite some time. She seemed to hold a facial expression equinanimously between shocked disbelief and amused delight.

“Michael,” Keiko asked, “is that you?”

“Right now she’s Mikki,” Akiko told her mother, giggling yet again.

“You’re so very pretty. Oh, I can’t believe it. Did you do this all yourself?”

“Oh no, Mom!” he answered. “It was Akiko’s idea, but we both did it together. My planned Hallowe’en costume was too bulky to fit under a cassock, so she suggested it. I didn’t want to do it at first, but she promised me that she’d make me really look like a girl, so that no one could tell it was me. There were no problems getting my vestments on over it. And it was a lot of fun dressing up like this.”

Keiko hugged him. “It’s so nice to have a third daughter, even if it’s only for tonight.”

Akiko giggled yet again. “Well, not just tonight, Mom,” she began. “Mikki has promised to wear whatever I choose for her all weekend. I kind of like her and didn’t want her to leave right after tonight.”

At that point, Michael—or Mikki—blushed even more deeply than before. “Oh! I forgot about that.”

“Son, did your sister snooker you into some kind of silly challenge again?” I inquired of him.

“Yeah. She bet me that if she gave me a makeover, you wouldn’t recognize me. And you didn’t. Good goin’, Dad!”

“No you don’t, Michael! Don’t try to pass responsibility for your new misadventure off to me. How many times have I warned you about making bets with your sister?” I chuckled. “She always wins.”

“I know,” he moaned resignedly. “Oh, how I know!”

As they were very sleepy, our younger children had not yet entered the conversation, but this event was strange enough to interest an exhausted Mitsumi. “So, Mommy,” she asked, “is Mikki going to be another sister, now?”

“No,” Keiko answered. “It was just for Hallowe’en and it seems the rest of the weekend.”

“Too bad!” Mitsumi rejoined. “He’s such a pretty girl! I might want my new sister to stay!”

So far, only one remained who had not yet offered an opinion on his older brother’s costume. “Whadya think, Gabe?” I asked.

“Please, don’t let my friends see ’im,” Gabriel pleaded. “I just don’t want ’em to think my big brother’s a sissy.”

“You’re not man enough to dress up like a girl, Gabe!”

“And just how does dressing up like a girl make anyone a man?” Gabriel retorted at his older brother.

“Well, a man does whatever he has to do,” Michael responded, “to get the job done.”

“And what job was this for?” his little brother counter-attacked.

Brothers will always spar with one other. But since Keiko and I didn’t care for physical violence, we insisted that any hand-to-hand conflict remain in their sensei’s dojo. So, Michael and Gabriel sparred verbally most of the time. And they were both good at it, with Gabriel being especially so, since he had to rise to his older brother’s larger vocabulary and higher conceptual level.

“I promised Dad that I wouldn’t miss my turn at acolyte but my space soldier costume wouldn’t fit under my cassock, so Akiko suggested this. And it worked. Dad didn’t even recognize me.”

“Which is why,” Akiko inserted, “he’ll be dressing like a girl all weekend. He’s a good brother who’s agreed to honor his promise to his sister.”

The smile on Michael’s face began to mutate into a grimace when she reminded him yet again of his fate for the weekend.

“Gotcha, Bro!” Gabriel announced, as a stream from his water pistol splashed Michael in the face. Then out of nowhere, a red vinyl purse at the end of a long matching shoulder strap suddenly swung over top of Gabriel and down onto his space soldier’s helmet as he tried unsuccessfully to dodge it.

“Even in a dress I can fight better than you!” Michael teased his brother.

“Boys!” I raised my voice. “Not in the Lord’s house!”

“Sorry, Dad,” Gabriel ’fessed up. “I went first. My fault.”

“No, Dad,” Michael replied. “I didn’t have to hit ’im back. He was just teasing and I got angry.”

Inside, I was both laughing at and relieved by their impromptu little comedy. Gabriel’s quick-witted jet of water in the face and Michael’s precision-timed response, swinging his purse in a perfectly aimed arc at his brother’s helmet, were classic farce. But both my sons had immediately taken responsibility for their acts of mischief.

“That’s all right! No harm, no foul!” I announced. I tried to hold as stern a countenance as possible. I didn’t want them to know how much fun that this was for me. Their creativity was no less appreciated by myself than was their repentance.

“Can we go home, now?” whined an especially sleepy Mitsumi.

“Listen up, everyone,” I announced. “We’re all too tired. Let’s stay here at the rectory tonight. It will be easier than all of us trying to get home at this hour.” It would likely be past two o’clock before we all were asleep in bed if we drove home. We used to live at the rectory and still kept the pantry stocked and ready just for such an occasion. Keiko knew we might sleep over and had asked Akiko to pack overnight bags for everyone.

* * *

When I knew that we’d be staying in the rectory for the night, I kindled and stoked the fire in the salon. Yes, we had a home in the suburbs for our own, but Keiko and I still liked the romance of the Victorian era rectory and the cozy salon with its fireplace. There aren’t that many perks in being a preacher’s wife, but the times that we spent together in that room were golden. It was, if I daresay, magical for us.

Spread out around the hearth were, two armchairs, each with an ottoman, a sofa, and a loveseat, all in the same matching style of upholstery.

On the loveseat, Akiko sat next to Michael while Mitsumi had lain cuddled across both her brother’s and sister’s laps, all three still in costume and asleep. Akiko’s hand rested softly on her little sister’s forehead and Michael’s arm was around his big sister’s shoulders.

Gabriel had his digital camera there with him, quietly preserving the scene.

I felt Keiko’s left hand on my right shoulder. My right hand found its shelf-like place to rest on her right hip.

* * *

“Mikki, I packed you a nightie with a matching panty,” as Akiko whispered in a giggle to her brother. “The set is in hot pink. I do hope you like the color!”

“You mean I have to sleep like a girl, too?” he asked, whining.

“All weekend. And I think you’re very brave for going through with it.”

Michael smiled. “Okay, Sis. Just remember, that I’m only doing this ’cause your my sister and I don’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

Smiling back, Akiko kissed her embarassed brother’s blushing cheek. “I know. And I appreciate it.”

* * *

Keiko was looking at one of Gabriel’s photographs from the previous evening. She handed it to me. “Our son makes such a pretty daughter, don’t you think?” she asked, her voice slightly subdued. A tear decorated her cheek as she smiled.

It was a photo of Akiko and Mikki letting their very sleepy sister Mitsumi lay across them on the loveseat. It touched me as surely as it had my wife. It spoke volumes about all our children, including Gabriel, not seen in the picture, because he had composed and captured the scene. This showed a very precocious photographic talent in our younger son.

“This is a photo to treasure. This may be the first photo made by all four of our kids, Honey,” I told her.

“But Gabriel’s not there,” Keiko objected, looking at me quizzically.

“He’s on the other side of the camera.” I replied.

“You mean that Gabriel composed and captured this scene?” Keiko inquired. “This level of composition is well beyond the skill of a normal boy his age.”

“Imagine our two boys… one a fashion photographer, the other his fashion model!” I chuckled. Playfully, my wife grabbed a throw pillow from the end of the sofa and hit me over the head with it as she giggled.

“Seriously,” I said, “we need to get Gabriel a teacher for photography.”

“Yes,” she answered. “He may have my grandfather’s eye for the camera. He was a very good photographer, you know!”

I looked at the photograph again. Everything in that picture, before and behind the camera showed the different ways our children had learned to love one another.