As I await the newest Christmas Day memories, experiences over the past couple of weeks have already brightened the spirit of this season for me.
Add to that a moment when being in the spirit, combined with being a little bit older, presented a less than stellar outcome.
And there was an annual event that always hits me square in the soul and is cherished forever.
It started last Saturday at my neighborhood’s annual Christmas parade. It was the usual thing, some floats, decorated cars, dancers, candy flying everywhere and laughing children dashing hither and yon to collect it.
On one occasion my driveway was covered with dozens of pieces of candy and other things. Well, rather than pick it up myself, I encouraged children nearby to come over and get all they wanted. They hesitated for a couple seconds, then they bolted my way. A minute or so later I had just one smushed silver-bell candy left.
A little girl pointed to it and said, “Look at it. I don’t want that.” I laughed and gave her a piece of candy I that was saving for myself. I hope the sweetheart knew what that mini Snicker’s bar meant to me.
I walked over to the where the children were going when I saw a young man holding a young child and trying to control others. He looked familiar.
“Do you remember me, Mr. Pratt? I’m Jeffrey.” I laughed and responded; he was a friend of my son and they played together on a softball team I coached around 24 years ago. That, alone, made my day.
But less-than-stellar day? At a Christmas event at my job, I was swept up in the spirit and walked headlong into a comeuppance with my age. There was excitement about a Corn Hole event. I had never participated in the bag tossing sport.
Away from the competition, I tossed a few bags and seemed very good at it. However, I felt a serious pain shoot up the lower back of my left leg. Somehow, I had pulled a muscle tossing the little bags in the air. I limped around, embarrassed for the rest of the day, as I had to explain how my injury happened.
I did, however, redeem myself the next day. I participated in this Christmas game called Candy Cane Gram where you paid a buck to send a Christmas note to coworkers. I sent several, but one was very creative.
For a coworker whose first name has an apostrophe in it (example: La’Tray), I sent a Candy Cane Gram note, “You have a great Na’me!”
Pretty good, huh?
But the reason for the season hit home on Wednesday evening when a high school classmate and I participated in our Class of 1972’s annual gift-giving to needy students at McKinley High. Various classmates are assigned students to visit.
Our recipients were a brother and sister. The mom greeted us; although alerted days in advance, she still was not quite aware of what was going to happen.
She requested we arrive at a certain time because the single mom had a job where she worked all night. Let that sink it. The siblings were cheerful, not quite knowing what was going to happen. The 11th and 12th graders read aloud a Christmas card with a personal note about our hopes for each of them.
We took pictures with them just before they told us their goals in life. The sister, an 11th grader, shyly said “I think I want to be a nurse.” The brother said shyly, “I just want to go to work somewhere.” Let that sink in.
Then they were presented with cash gifts. There were wide, stunned smiles and thank-yous.
My classmate and I told them that our thank-yous would come when they became successful and reached back to help a student at our high school. They promised they would.
Spending time with them puts the Christmas season in perspective. As I do every year, I will cherish those few, but golden, moments.
Now, I guess, I can say I’m blessed and ready for whatever Dec. 25th brings.
Email Edward Pratt, a former newspaperman, at epratt1972@yahoo.com.