The week before Christmas is always
hectic. So much to get ready for, so
many little errands, the to do list that doesn’t seem to stop. And, part of me struggles with the short days
and the long dark and cold nights.
There’s a big part of me that just wants to eat comfort food, ingest lots
of sugar, and snuggle under a blanket with a mug of tea.
I recently stopped by the nearby youth prison
for my weekly visit with a guy. No one
has come to see him in the last four years, so I’ve been asked to come and say
hi, be his friend, so he can gain some people skills. Soon, he’ll be out in the world, and will
need to be able to interact with the world. Spending some time with me is a
start in all that.
Once a week, we play cards. He’s teaching me rummy. I’m not sure of the rules, andI think we have
our own version of the game going on.
He’s the teacher, a new role for him, and he’s starting to enjoy
teaching this old man a few things.
The conversation is a little one
sided. He’s not used to company and
making small talk. He’s struggling with
math at school, so keeping score in the game of rummy is good for him. He’s making something in wood shop. He’s keeping it mysterious, so I think its my
Christmas present.
I’m getting him a blanket for
Christmas, one that features his favorite football team. He mentioned he’d like that a few weeks ago.
But, now he’s claiming he can’t remember what he asked me for Christmas. I wouldn’t tell him today. It’s a surprise, a part of the excitement of
the season.
Except for what he’s getting from
the prison, and a local fraternal organization, no one else is getting him a
present.
He said he liked the Christmas card I sent him
this week. He mentioned it several
times, but not finding the words he wanted to say.
He showed me the card he was making
for his grandma. It was sweet, with a little
Christmas tree and the ornaments, Charlie Brown style, made from a sheet of
copy paper, colored with crayons, and hand blocked letters. He’s sixteen now, but the card had the look
of something from an art class a long time ago. Yet, it was something from his sweet heart. I’m
hoping I get one, too. It would go on
the frig, and I’d show it off to my friends and family.
“My gin rummy buddy gave that to
me,” I’d say. “He’s quite a guy.”
We play a few hands, and discover we
have an extra Queen of Clubs. He doesn’t
know what to do, so we change the rules and play 53 card, five queen
rummy. It really is our own game
now. We’re just making it up as we go
along.
The hour flies by. We’re busy shuffling, dealing, laying down
some runs, and adding up our points. He’s
beating me, big time. We don’t talk about much.
But, we don’t need to. We’re just
hanging out, two guys having a good time, playing some cards.
“Are you having a good time?” I ask.
“Oh, this is great,” he says. “Yeah.”
“I’m really glad you come to see
me,” he says. “Otherwise, I’d be all
alone.”
The other guys here are busy, and
the room where we play can get pretty noisy.
But, my buddy is zeroed in on our card game, intent on adding up his
points, and beating me.
“I’ll see you at the Christmas party
next week,” he says. “And, don’t forget my gift.”
I’ll get one from him, too. But, he’s already given me the best present, the
simple gift of an hour, a little conversation, and some hands of cards, and his
face breaking out into a little smile.
And, maybe that’s the best gift I
could ever have for Christmas.
12/23/2015
--Neal
Lemery
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