Leading up to Christmas, Parker and Djedly
watched a few holiday movies. And each time there was an opportunity for Djedly
to talk about Santa, Parker would squint his eyes, and lift his top lip and
push his nose up and scowl and say, “there is no Santa. He not real.” And in my
head I would smack him. But in reality, I would reply and tell him that it
saddened me that he had lost his magic. Well…he never had it, likely. Here in
Haiti, magic is very different concept than most of us are use to. Magic can be
evil. It is not a miraculous, twinkly, incredible concept. So this took some
explaining. And when I had a quick moment alone with Parker I explained to him
that we believe in keeping the magic alive for the children in our home. I told
him that he could choose not to believe in the magic of Christmas, but if he
did want to participate that he might just be surprised that Santa listens and
watches and knows what the perfect gifts to give special kids who believe in
the magic and let the soft, warm jolly glow of the season fill their hearts.
Yes, he knows that Santa is a figment. I’m not trying to pull a fast one on a
13 year old. But I wanted him to have a sense of wonderment and participate in
the Christmas spirit as well as the secret. So he agreed not to tell Djedly and
Leo what we had discussed. And from that day forward, he was not so negative
and critical about Christmas.
In fact, by the time J and the kids arrived,
Parker was delighted to see the pieces of our Christmas tree come together. And
he was inquisitive and excited to see all the ornaments ($1 store – HOLLA) spread
out across our table. He helped Djedly and Leo put hooks on each one of them.
And then J and I sat back and watched four of our five children decorate our
tree. They were together. Making the magic happen. The soft glow of Christmas
filled the room, and the warmth of our hearts came along with it. That feeling
had been achieved. Yes, we were forced by circumstance to recreate our advent
on a tropical island. Yes it is far from the snow globe of a white Christmas we
all hoped to have. There was no amazing Christmas Eve dinner. No last minute
screaming at kids to keep their nice clothes clean before piling into the car
to slide around in the slush on the way to J’s church where we would snore
through the service. Sorry J but I
think we would all have more fun if we attend the black church. Plus you
would look fantastic in a shiny purple suit with a matching hat with a peacock
feather. Just sayin’. Love you. Mean it. But yeah…
What we did have was almost everybody. Almost. We didn’t have a toddler running like a
daredevil toward the tree in tackle mode. But we had time. And we had grace.
And we had fun. We played Christmas carols and watched the kids put several
ornaments in a clump on one side of the tree. We reminisced that we had
fulfilled J’s lifelong desire to have the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree, because
we definitely had a very good version of it. We watched and we smiled. And we
were happy. We had the closest thing to what we really wanted and needed that
we could possibly have. We finally had the boys with us for Christmas. We have
hoped and wished and cried and screamed and prayed and longed for the year that
we would finally see them tumble down the stairs and stare in wonderment at
packages delivered secretly while they slumbered. And while there were no
footed jammies and crème brulee French toast baking while the packages were
vigorously torn apart, we had a small and happy present exchange. We got to
watch as they cautiously ripped open their packages and examined the contents
with fresh eyes. They had never had a Christmas like this. And we were able to
give them their first. There are so few firsts that we will have with them.
That’s the breaks with adopting older children who you may never see a baby
photo of. You have no idea when they started to walk. You will never have a
hand stamp from kindergarten. Or when they lost their first tooth. You will
never know what their first word was. But this was their first Christmas. A
real Christmas. With a tree. And reindeer. And lights. And packages. And
ornaments. And us.
My favorite moment of the morning came when
Parker started to open his Santa gifts. He slowly opened the package. I could
see Britt and Leo sitting on either side of him looking like they were about to
rupture; urging him to fiercely rip it open and reveal the surprise inside.
Instead, he thoughtfully opened it, expecting to be disappointed by the
contents. I could see the look of glaze plastered across his face. Until he
opened the box. And his eyes immediately shot up to me. He looked back down and
as his smile emerged, which he was clearly trying to force back, he had a
knowing look on his face. A look that said, “holy shiz I got EXACTLY what I
wanted.” And then J handed him another package. A long and slender wrapped
gift. And the smile could no longer be contained. It was the perfect finishing
touch to the super pack of Ninja accoutrements he had already received. A
sword. He now had all possible Ninja issuance. Stars, weird Asian shoes, belts,
daggers, a hood, a kimono and pants, and a sword with a sheath and strap.
There is no way to tell whether he will ever
again have a Christmas moment as surprisingly fulfilling as this; but I will
always cherish knowing that we were able to give him his first. He felt
everything that Christmas is about.
And now he is in full- blown Ninja glory Heaven.
Thank you Santa.
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