By DEREK BECHER
Christmas has always been a magical time for me. Growing up in a large family, I experienced Christmases with much laughter, fun, love, giving, receiving, singing, and enjoyable get-togethers that eventually became traditions that would last throughout my youth.
While some of these traditions have changed into my adulthood, I’ve been blessed so far with 13 nieces and nephews who, in their own imaginative and genuine ways, reignite in me the true spirit of Christmas every year, because of the sincerity and hope that I’ve seen in the hearts and the imaginations of each of them, at one point or another.
Most recently, I was touched by the heartfelt and innocent comment of my dear nephew Vance.
I’ve been fortunate to watch Vance grow up, being able to stay with my brother and his family quite regularly, often helping out with renovations, and taking Vance — and more recently, his younger brother Wyatt — for walks, or skating, or trick-or-treating, or just to play.
Like any young three-year-old boy, Vance loves to play, and whenever I visit, he always adorably inquires about my schedule to see how often I’ll be able to squeeze in time to play with him. Hide and seek, races, toys, hockey, reading books — all of the typical activities that children enjoy doing, and that I’ve enjoyed doing with all of Vance’s cousins — have become regular activities for us whenever I visit.
I immediately saw similarities between Vance’s baby pictures, and those of my brother and even of myself when we were infants; the family resemblance was unmistakable, and it immediately drew me to him.
As I have with all my nieces and nephews, I enjoyed holding Vance when he was a baby, and rocking him to sleep in my arms. As he grew into toddlerhood, I continued an activity that I started with his older cousins and enjoyed throwing him into the air and then catching him. He was genuinely thrilled at the way I enjoyed playing with him, and we each enjoyed every moment we got to spend together.
I was moved, then, the first time I saw tears in his eyes when leaving one time, when he was old enough to express the sadness of seeing someone he loved leave, not knowing when I’d return. Each time, I tried to comfort him by saying, “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll be back before you know it. And remember each night when you go to sleep, that Uncle D loves you.”
Vance would be coming with his brother and his parents to spend a couple of days at my parents’ home for his third Christmas. I had come home, also, and I was looking forward to spending time with all of my family members, and especially my nieces and nephews. As I waited that Christmas afternoon for Vance and his family to arrive, I could only imagine the excitement that was going through his mind, as he surely anticipated getting to visit with his grandparents, his Uncle D, and other family members that would be there.
I welcomed him with a big hug when he stepped through the front doors with a wide bright smile, and then Wyatt joined us for a group hug. After luggage was put away, and everyone had settled in from an afternoon of travel, plans were made to open gifts for the family members that had just arrived. I immediately donned my “Santa’s helper” toque and waited for everyone to gather around the tree in the living room, so I could continue the tradition of handing out presents to those who had arrived to celebrate the season.
When everyone was seated, I picked out a gift addressed to Wyatt and handed it to him. As he shredded the wrapping — as most one-year-olds will do — I located a gift then to hand to Vance. It was a rectangular box with festive wrapping and a big blue bow. I walked toward Vance with the gift and exclaimed, “Look, Vance, there’s a gift here for you!”
In that very next moment, I saw the look of wonder, surprise, and pure joy that I’ve seen on all my nieces and nephews in their younger youth. He was just so happy to be receiving a gift in a room of his family members and relatives, and to be a part of the spirit of Christmas that was shared amongst all those there.
With heartfelt delight and the innocent pleasure that can only be found in the hearts and on the faces of children, especially at Christmas, Vance received the gift as I handed it to him, and said, “Thank you for bringing Christmas to me!”
I paused for just a split second as I gave Vance a present from his grandparents. A lump formed instantaneously in my throat, and I felt my eyes begin to well up, just briefly. All I could muster as a reply was, “No, Vance, thank you for coming to share Christmas with me, and all of us!”
I watched as Vance opened a remote-controlled airplane, for which he gave his grandparents much heartfelt thanks. I proceeded to hand out the rest of the gifts, one at a time, addressed to those in the room. We all went on to have another joyous family Christmas, spent with days of merrymaking and nights of games and laughter.
But from the heart and the mind of a beautiful little boy that Christmas, I was thankful for the gift of the spirit of Christmas that he brought to me.
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(© December 2014)
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