A Bicycle for Christmas

I'm getting into the holiday spirit this evening. Got me thinking about a (true!) story of mine from a few years ago...

I was working at a hugely awful place and the one bright spot was a woman who I'd see for a couple hours every day, as our shifts overlapped. She had this lovely kind heart. She also read and loved my romantic comedy feature film script (then freshly written) and was a big supporter long before anyone else was on board.

Her son was about 9 or 10 years old and the sweetest kid. They didn't have much money left over after all the bills were paid and I got this sneaky idea I was going to buy the boy a bike for Christmas. I scoped out a rough and tough boy's bike at Toys R Us and they had some excellent stuff to go with it, like cool screw-on air valve covers that were skull and crossbones, and a "real" license plate stamped with the boy's name. I was really having fun getting this bike and wheeling it to the cash register. Everyone around me was grinning at me and catching the vibe. I told a couple people what I was doing. We had a pretty jolly checkout line.

I had the bike at home for a couple of days and got all the stuff put on it. Just as an off the cuff idea, I then made a big card out of construction paper and wrote a poem to the boy from Santa. In the poem, I wrote (taking dictation from Santa, of course) that Santa was so impressed with what a good boy this child had been and how proud his mother was of him- you know, in that vein. Wish I could remember it as the rhyming was pretty tight and I was happy with it. I tricked it all out with silvery ink and glittery things and signed it "Santa."

None of this was known to my friend. On Christmas Eve, I put on my Santa hat and drove over to her apt, then phoned her from the street to come down alone. She did and I told her I was working for Santa, then popped the hatch and pulled the bike out of my car. She burst into tears and gave me a big hug, which was pretty great and very moving. I gave her the card and she went sobbing and wheeling it back to her apt.

I thought she'd have to give it to the boy right then, but she told me later that she'd managed to get back inside and hide it out on their balcony and then he got it Christmas Day.

Here comes the best part of this story. Get out your hankies.

The best part of the present, in her son's opinion?

The card to him from Santa. She said he marveled at it. Carried it around all day and kept looking at it.
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It's not often that I get to be great, seems like. Most of the time when I check in at the Church of the Bathroom Mirror, I'm reminded that I know I could do better and yet I choose not to give things that little extra push. That's a flincher moment. So, it's nice when Santa has work for me and I do the job right. Gives me hope.

Hope you are enjoying your Christmas shopping this year.