Lucky Kids

It isn't often I stop another man in public and offer him a compliment, especially when my husband is with me. But a few days ago, I witnessed something that impressed me and I couldn't let the moment pass.

While shopping for a housewarming gift, I heard the unmistakable sound of merchandise tumbling from the shelf on the aisle next to me. Grateful it wasn't me knocking things over,  I ignored the commotion  until a blur rushed by. The next words and the tone of concern piqued my interest. 

 "Honey, are you all right?"

I peeked over the shelves in time to see a rather large man rush to the side of a young preteen girl. Her reply was too low for me to hear, but she looked relieved.

He patted her back.  "It's okay, nothing broke." His voice was gentle. "Let me help you." He knelt beside her and together they returned each item to its rightful place. He stood, smiled, gave her a reassuring pat on the back, and moved away, leaving her to shop on her own, once again. He left her  with no words of reproach or caution to watch what she was doing.  He headed in my direction to resume his own shopping as if nothing had happened.

I thought of the many times I'd witnessed other children in similar situations and the reaction of other parents.

The small child smacked on their tiny hand, bottom, or jerked away from the store shelves for simply mimicking mommy. The angry and frustrated mother, "I told you not touch!" The language changes as  children grow but the reaction is often the same.

"Get away from there."

"If you break that it's coming out of your allowance."

"Do you think I'm made of money?"

Much like the economy, patience is running thin in families across our nation. Our society is in turmoil to the point we are now debating the meaning of family, but as I observed this stranger with his daughter it was clear to me this man was an active, involved father and he understood completely the meaning of family. He gave me hope. 

"Excuse me Sir," I said.

Replacing an item on the shelf, he turned to me. "Yes?" He said. His smile was warm  and welcoming. Faint crows feet crinkled in curiosity, as he looked right at me. I could see why his daughter felt safe.

"I wanted to tell you how impressed I was with how you handled your daughter's mishap a few minutes ago. So often, I see parents get angry with their children when something like that happens, but your first concern was for your daughter, not the merchandise. It was wonderful to witness such parental love and patience."

He seemed surprised."Why, thank you, but we have five children, we're used to seeing lots of things get broken." He chuckled.

"Well, I just thought you should know, you're a great example for fathers."

"Thank you. I do my best."

 "Lucky kids." I said, walking away.

"Why?"

There is less Christmas joy in the air, this week. The merry season is forever tainted. Our nation is still reeling from the tragedy that unfolded, two days ago, in Newton Connecticut. We can't wrap our heads around the insanity of such an act against innocent children. That it happened so close to Christmas, a time families cherish with their children, only adds to the horror. And, we are all left asking "Why?"

The truth is, there is no "why." There is no "one" explanation for why bad things happen to good people. I wish there were, and then we could stop it, eradicate it.

These parent's will be grieving for a long time. They have every right to scream to the Heavens,  "Why?" I can only imagine their grief and pain. I pray for them every night.

But, the politicians and lobbyists shouldn't try to answer that question for these families by promoting their own agenda's. They should leave them alone.

There may come a time when one or more of the families choose to take up a cause in the name of their child, but that should be, must be, their choice, not a choice driven by the media or politics.

This is not about gun control, violence in Hollywood, the music industry and their influence, or how inept our nation is in helping the mentally ill. These issues are important and worth discussing, but NOT NOW.

This is about 26 innocent victims, 20 of them children, killed less than two weeks before Christmas. For those families and surviving siblings, Christmas will never be the same. For journalists and politicians  to exploit these grieving families to further their own agendas, is but another tragedy.

It is up to us, society, and to those close to the families to help them as best we can by offering our prayers, words of comfort, and help protect them from opportunistic journalists and politicians. Tell them to let these families grieve in peace.


To the families of Newton, Connecticut, you are in my prayers.

Christmas Magic

Christmas is just around the corner, and we adults are hustling and bustling, to buy the perfect gift for everyone on our list. By now we'd received all kinds of hints and a few suggestions (lists, to make our shopping experience easier). 

Christmas is for the little ones, but my children are adults now with families of their own, and on Christmas morning, my husband and I will wake up in an empty old house. I'm sure Christmas morning will be lovely, but the sound and excitement of little ones are but an echo. As a result, the season has lost a little of its magic.

Months of commercialization sap the life out of the Christmas spirit and crowds of shoppers which grow every year, are overwhelming. By the time, my family arrives on Christmas Eve, I'm worn out from shopping, wrapping presents, decorating and baking. I'm just ready for the New Year to begin.

But, in an instant a precious grandchild can bring the magic back, and remind us all of the true spirit of Christmas. 

It isn't about the most expensive or trendy gift but a gift from the heart. My seven-year-old granddaughter's school sponsored a Santa Shoppe for students where each child would have the opportunity to purchase Christmas presents for their parents, and friends; the prices ranged from $1-$5.  

Included on my granddaughter's Christmas list was her daddy, a construction worker. She spotted the perfect gift the minute  she walked  into Santa's Shoppe.

Her daddy often received calls after hours, and on more than one occasion, she watched him  go out to his van at night. Unable to see well enough to unlock the door to his van, he always came back, grumbling  in search of a flashlight.  

What did my seven year-old granddaughter buy her daddy for Christmas?

A keychain flashlight. 

Her thoughtfulness brought him to tears.  How do I know? She couldn't wait to give it to him. 

Often it's the small things that make the biggest differences in our lives.

This is the spirit of Christmas. The magic is back.