Popular Posts

Sunday, January 8, 2012

A Child's Gift of Christmas

The Gift of Christmas.

Anaphywhat?

He entered the room, startling me -- then both our faces lit up as "Merry Christmas!" chimes filled the air like the bells of St. Mary's.  I rushed over to him, and could barely make it over before he lifted his bright, red Christmas train caboose, telling me all the details of its fine performance, switching on the light  and  then powering up the engine... Then bending down to let it chug its way across the floor with impressive speed... His little body seemed charged with energy, as he gave way to peels of excitement and laughter as though seeing it for the first time... I suspect he has enjoyed that same thrill before and after our show.  He couldn't get the words out quickly enough, as he started to tell me about the tricks the train could do by remote... And how the magical remote makes the train make real train sounds.  We traversed the floor back and forth a few times until the terrain of an area rug seemed tempting.  Just then, I thought it time to present an overstuffed Christmas stocking.

It was his first Christmas celebration in a western home... So everything was geared to recreate the magic of the day that I felt in childhood.  The norfolk pine suffered holiday ribbon and a garland, with a red bow on top.  The red-clad nutcracker made its first appearance after 19 years, gracing a backdrop of shimmering gold and silver leaves. A hollyberry wreath dressed up a candleholder... As did the Christmas bells on the front door handle and the stuffed Santa and Fosty the Snowman door decorations.  The Christmas cards made it into a display this year, proplonging the trip to the recycle bin... They accented the multidimensional tree centerpiece beautifully.  Decorations hung on various knobs throughout, and the mixed scents of balsam and pine were the finishing touches to the sensory imprint of, what I had hoped would be, a cherished memory.

He wasn't quite sure what to do with the Christmas stocking, so his Dad helped him unload the goodies.  There were iridescent wall stickers for his bedroom, a musical wand, a Christmas cap... This stylish boy would not let it come near his crown... And he wouldn't let his father wear it for long -- clearly too buffoonish, and not GQ enough for this youngster.  There was a large, organic candy cane, organic gingerbreadmen, gourmet jellybeans, chocolates and a beautiful Christmas tree ornament that was likely made in Rajasthan.  The one thing that he clung to was the 10- pack of Duracell AA batteries... He opened the package and took all of the batteries out, trying to hold them at once in his small hands -- as though, if he didn't hold them, they would be gone.  We asked why he had taken them out and why they were his favourite gift, and he said that his train needs batteries, and he was readying to put more in.  Once we explained the concept of battery capacity, his Dad got him interested in the pyramid of presents awaiting him.  

The boy's father opened the first gift to show his son how the present-thing works.  It was an educational toy that required PC setup -- low out-of-the-box setup and amazement = low initial interest.  It's an extension of the 2- second rule, really.  A gift wrapped in pretty paper has 2 seconds to capture a child's interest... If more than 2 seconds is required, it's onto the next.

The next wrapped box had 2 second power -- it was the first of four sets of Legos... and these are the Lego years -- aaah the sweet spot.  He had learned fast... Tearing the gift wrapping away like a raptor, picking up speed with each successive box... Gasps of excitement filled the air as he realized how quickly his Kingdom of Lego had expanded.  Immediately, we had to build one of the sets.

His Dad convinced him that the police car should be the one we build... It happened to have the least number of pieces (50), making it a good choice.  He built it with amazing speed... At one point, the three of us gave advice as we studied the picture on the box and compared it to what was being built in-hand.  There were a few extra pieces left, but the car ran amazingly smoothly.  

We broke for an organic dinner, which was an effort for this finicky, little gourmand.  The chicken's texture was definitely too juicy, and couldn't be tolerated.  The beans and rice went down with more success.  He was so excited that he couldn't stop talking about the toys -- what he had done with them... What he planned to do... By the end of the meal, it had been deemed a necessity that we crash the police car as many ways as possible... Little did we know what this charmer had in mind....

You see, what's the point of crashing a police car if there is not another car?  The body damage should clearly be split evenly.  Parity.  A future politician.

Yes, I was suckered into building the Jurassic buggy that would help the ranger escape the Lego raptor... 80 pieces... We played around with portions of the buggy components for a bit, and, after it was clear that we were making no appreciable progress, I opened the instruction book (I prefer to consult construction books only after the device is built or configured -- this was tantamount to a male driver asking someone for directions).  I started out with the buggy in my hands, and heard him say that he couldn't put these toys together.  It was a relatively symmetrical build, so I gave him pieces, and, step by step, we added one layer at a time.  Eventually, the legos were in his hands, and i just identified the pieces and gave them to him, instructing him as to the placement.  He did an amazing job, and I told him so several times along the way.  We even got to play crashy-crashy for a bit afterwards.

His Father fell asleep while we built the buggy, occasionally waking, eyeing us, laughing, and dozing off again.  When his son showed his new buggy, I explained who had built it.  The little boy minimized his own part, emphasizing that I gave him the directions... To which I emphasized, "But you built it, and you did a good job." His face lit up from the inside out.  

Why didn't I have a camera on hand? I hadn't celebrated Christmas for the last 7 years... In each of those years, I ended up alone, undisturbed.  Both by choice, and by circumstance.  There was nothing that had made me want to change that.

However, this year, a 4.5 year old gave me the most memorable Christmas ever.  And, henceforth, my Christmases will never be the same.  I was so grateful that my eyes filled with tears of joy.  It was a priceless day.

God bless you... one and all.*

* Not plagiarism.  Poetic license on use of punctuation.