page7

Jeremy's Gift
By Rita Lammers

There is a certain comfort in the imperfect, familiar things of life. The old door creaked on its hinges as Stephen opened it and reached his hand inside to turn on the light. The tree stood in the corner, just as he knew it would, waiting until he could come. Waiting for enough time to pass so Stephen could bear to look at it again. Waiting for the funeral, and the craziness of a busy Christmas season, to pry open a crack in time just large enough for Stephen to slip through into the past. Right there in the corner all this time, patiently waiting for the only man left who knew it was there.

Stephen pushed the door wider and ushered his young son inside. Today would be the first time they decorated this tree together. Somehow Christmas Eve seemed the appropriate time for such a thing. Throughout the years Stephen and his dad had a ritual each Christmas. Long ago the tree had changed from fresh cut to an artificial pine. Dad didn't have to remember to water it anymore, and in his later years, remembering was difficult. But he never forgot to set up the tree each year, put the lights on, and on the first Sunday of Advent Stephen would join him to add the old ornaments, each with its own story. Then they would "frost" the tree in silver tinsel and sit for a time in front of the fire with hot chocolate and cookies, admiring their work.

Even when his mother was alive, Stephen and his Dad had this tradition, and every year after they decorated the tree there would be cookies warm from the oven and cups of cocoa waiting for them. Just the two of them. Stephen's mother had never been able to have more children, so he was an only child, but his parents saw to it he always had plenty of company. Yet each year Stephen and his dad shared their tradition uninterrupted, and until tonight no one knew why. It was their little secret, and his Dad assured him he had never told his Mother. Now all these years later, as Stephen closed the door against the harsh winter winds, sweeping aside the snowflakes that had started to fall, he knew tonight was a momentous occasion. For the first time he and his son would decorate the tree together, and for the first time, the story would be told.

No one had foreseen the massive heart attack rendering his Dad very still one night two days before Advent began. Stephen had gone through all the motions amid the rush of the Christmas Season. The announcement. The arrangements. The funeral. Taking care of things at his Dad's house. Stephanie had stood by him through it all. Stephen and Stephanie. Two peas in a pod. Inseparable since she had moved in down the street when he was twelve. The perfect wife. The perfect family. They stood together trying to hold onto the past, and reaching toward a future without Dad. It would not be easy, but this was the irony of life. You hurt most when you lose someone you love, simply because they are one of the greatest joys in your life. The greater the joy, the greater the pain.

As Stephen took off his coat and laid it by the hearth, he lit the fire his father had prepared, then he chose once again to set sadness aside and simply be thankful for the gift of his Dad. Even though he would have to wait many years to see him again, and it would be hurtful to be without him, he knew time would heal the hurt, and the memories would sustain him. Lifting the cover off the box of ornaments, he handed one from the top to his own son, and for the last time in this home he grew up in, Stephen began decorating the tree.

As they worked slowly, treasuring the moments, Stephen would tell each ornament's story. The baseball bat with the year inscribed when he hit a homerun for his team's championship. The ABC ornament from when he won the spelling bee. The drama ornament with one face smiling and one frowning. Comedy and tragedy, just like his brief time on a middle school stage. The trumpet ornament from the year he got all red in the face learning to play. The scrolls commemorating his graduations from high school and college. The events of his life unfolded as each ornament was unwrapped and hung until, finally, there remained only one.

"Dad look at this one", his son exclaimed as he lifted the last ornament from the box. Stephen had purposefully let Jeremy discover the last ornament on his own. "Why is it tied up with a gold ribbon?" he asked turning it over carefully. Stephen reached out to take the ornament wrapped in faded paper and gold ribbon from his son's hand, cradling it in his own for a moment. Sitting down in his father's chair, Stephen gathered his young son onto his lap and explained the significance of this one last ornament to be hung.

"Grampie and I would always save this ornament to hang last, and it was always the first one we would take and wrap up for the next year. One year when I was four, Grampie began tying it up with gold ribbon because he knew it would always be the best gift he could ever give me. You are a few years older than I was, and I want to give you the same gift Grampie gave me all those years ago, so you will know how much I love you."

Untying the gold bow, Stephen shifted his young son to the other knee, and placed the contents of the package on a nearby table. It was a silver sports car ornament that still shimmered with the same life it had all those years ago. "Jeremy, when I was four years old Grampie got a silver sportscar, and Grammie gave him this ornament to commemorate it. She knew the car wouldn't last forever, but it was such fun riding around with the top down, she wanted him to always remember that feeling.

Of course, I wasn't supposed to touch the ornaments on the tree once they were up, but the car was just begging to be driven around the room, and I couldn't help myself. So I took it down, and sped it around the room a few times. Unfortunately, one of the wheels broke off. I guess it was meant for hanging not driving," Stephen said with a wry smile. "I tried to fix it, but it didn't work very well. I was hoping if I hung it back on the tree no one would notice, but that wasn't very realistic.

Grampie never said a word. Every time I looked at the tree, though, I remembered what I had done, and it nearly ruined Christmas for me. Then on Christmas Eve I noticed the car was gone. Each year after the Children's service at church, we always went home and opened new pajamas to wear to bed, but this year there was one more gift wrapped in white paper and tied with a gold ribbon. The best gift I ever got, or ever would get."

"It was the car wasn't it Daddy?" Jeremy interrupted excitedly. Stephen smiled and gave him a hug. "Oh yes, it was the car Jeremy, and so much more. You see Grampie had written a note on the paper. The next year we began decorating the tree together, just the two of us, and each year he would read me the note again."

As Stephen flattened out the old paper, Jeremy could see the writing inside. Stephen read it out loud for the first time in all those years, and a new tradition began.
"Dear Stephen,
We all make mistakes in life. I have made many mistakes myself. My Holy Father has always loved me, always forgiven me and always helped me fix the brokenness I had created. I am passing this gift along to you. With His help, I will always love you, always forgive you, and always help you fix the brokenness of life. Every year when we hang this ornament together, we will remember this promise. A sign in the evergreen bough that although we make mistakes, there is always love, always forgiveness, always hope.
Love Dad"

The two boys sat in silence for a time, then Stephen picked up the beautifully repaired silver sports car, and handed it to his son. Taking a pen from his pocket, on the old faded paper next to "Stephen" he wrote "Jeremy". "Now we have a new tradition." Stephen told his son. "Each year we will decorate the Christmas tree, hang the ornaments, and finally place this one on our tree." After a moment Jeremy whispered, "You'll have to get a special one for Sarah too," not wanting his sister to be left out. "Oh don't you worry," Stephen told him. "We will tell Sarah and your Mom all about this little silver car, and we will pick out a special ornament for Sarah to hang each year, tied up in gold ribbon with the same message inside. Then we will all have cocoa and cookies in front of the fire."

Jeremy leaned back to snuggle closer into his Dad's shoulder, turning the silver car over and over in his hand. "Grampie sure was special wasn't he dad?" Jeremy said quietly. "Yes he was Jeremy." Stephen answered. "Is that why you named me after him," his son asked, turning trusting blue eyes on his father. "That's exactly why Jeremy. You're going to make mistakes just like I have, but I promise you this.

My Holy Father has always loved me, always forgiven me and always helped me fix the brokenness I had created. I am passing this gift along to you. With His help, I will always love you, always forgive you, and always help you fix the brokenness of life. Every year when we hang this ornament together, we will remember this promise. A sign in the evergreen bough that although we make mistakes, there is always love, always forgiveness, always hope."

"I love you Jeremy," Stephen told his son with a big hug and a small tear that fell on his dark brown hair. "I love you too Dad", he replied. Then they sat for a time before the crackling fire, and just held on.