You're Welcome, Love

You wanted the world, the whole world, but you were disappointed when I handed you a pebble instead. You looked up at me with those big eyes, with the same look your father gave me only a few minutes before at the Christmas tree. That look of disappointment that could not be stopped no more than the snow falling outside could be prevented from piling on the walkway. The words 'I'm sorry' spewed from my lips like ashes, automatic and dry from having used them so often.
I kissed you on the forehead and you were a good boy. You didn't say anything but the biggest, small word you knew and used liberally. 'Thank you'

You scurried to your room, and your father sighed from his chair as he looked at me through tired eyes. He wanted the whole world, the earth, to give to you, and he was disappointed himself.
I gave him an encouraging smile and reached out to hold his hand, but he pulled away and left for the front porch, choosing to be cold in the snow than feel the vulnerability of his poor embarrassment.

I could no more heal the wound of his embarrassment than our Christmas tree produce a miracle.
I touched my ear and rubbed my smooth, velvety lobe, a stress induced habit you've seen me practice before, as I sat alone. As I thought, I felt my warm earring between my fingertips.
I could not fix the world or give it to you, but I could make it a little better.
With my little coat pulled over my shoulders, and a small hope, I left the house.

When I returned you and your father were in the floor by the fireplace playing with the dog. Sitting with your father there you looked so happy, as if the day's disappointment had never crossed your mind. But your were always good at faking me out, even back then.
Your smile greeted me as I walked through the door, and grew even more when I pulled from behind that beautiful green bike with the brown seat you had eyed in the department store all year. You leaped to your feet with a look of joy that I can still see in my mind. You took up the gift immediately and scurried outside. I called to you to put on your scratchy wool jacket, the one you hated but kept you warm, but my request fell on deaf ears as you disappeared into the snow fall with your toy.

Your father came to my side, with expression of puzzled wonderment, and this time he took my hand when I offered it. His eyes wandered my face for a moment and then fell on my now naked ears. He realized what I had done and seemed conflicted for a moment; sad for my loss but happy for your joy.
He touched my hair, and pushed the stay pieces tangled by the wind, way from my face. It was easy to tell him 'Don't be sad, we needed a miracle, and I made one.'

His eyes were glittering now, like they used to in our younger days, and he whispered to me, "You are our miracle."
He kissed me gently by the Christmas tree, and only pulled away when you came back inside. You had rosy cheeks form the cold and snow flakes dancing on your eyelashes. As you wrapped your arms around my waist, you looked up at me and said 'Thank you' with the voice of someone who had everything he wanted.