Jean’s Journal – December 23, 2019
Evening was falling as I collected my things from the car and walked to the mailbox to gather the holiday wishes of the day. There were several Christmas cards and one overstuffed, letter sized envelope with three Santa stamps and no return address. Although I was immediately intrigued, I first opened the cards. When I got to the white envelope, I looked carefully at the handwriting but did not recognize it. Upon opening it, a flat wrapped package revealed itself. I loved the wrapping paper. It had an old model pickup truck with a dog inside and a Christmas tree in the bed. Printed neatly on the front of the package in black sharpie was my name. There was no card or tag. Curious. I carefully opened the package to find a thick packet of papers. Part of me wanted to glance ahead at them to satisfy my curiosity. And yet the other part of me said no. Go slow. I don’t know that I can explain the energy that I felt. It was almost magical. Something inside me letting me know this was not to be rushed. Move slowly. Savor the moment.
Now, it is important to interject here that I had just returned from dropping gifts to a little family that a group of us are trying to help. This single mom and her two young boys are homeless after having fled Alabama to escape a bad family situation.
The first page was a short type written note, which I will come back to. The second was a copy of a story from the internet about a boy who is living in a domestic violence shelter with his mom. He had written a very touching letter to Santa that had gone viral. With mom’s permission the letter was made public. So many stepped forward who wanted to help Blake and others in the shelter that a Santa’s Sack and Amazon Wish List were created. Here is his letter.
The pages that followed this one were copies of an order placed by my anonymous gift giver to that Amazon Wish List for Blake. Every item on Blake’s wish list was accounted for…well except for the very, very, very good dad.
The Amazon receipts showed the following:
1 of: Camping Survival Compass
1 of: Merriam Webster’s Elementary Dictionary, New Edition
1 of: Timex Ironman Classic Watch
1 of: Chapter Books: Legend of the Star Runner and The Dangerous Book for Boys
1 of: Stuffed Teddy Bear in Taekwondo Uniform
The simple type written note that the sender wrote went as follows.
Dear Jean and Family,
Merry Christmas. Hope you know how loved you are. Came across this letter from a little 7- year old boy at a domestic violence shelter asking for a very, very, very good dad and some gifts.
What better way to honor your husband and you and your love. Wanted to make sure that you know that his memory will not only live on in your immediate family but also in the works of others.
We see you and hear you and acknowledge your loss. We love you so. The best way to honor him would be to bring joy to someone else in a quiet way. This is our attempt to be thoughtful and generous like him. Hopefully one Christmas surprise wrapped in Christmas paper.
A fellow keeper of light
I so wanted to share this blessed happening in my writings, but now that I am here in this chair, I don’t know if I can. How do I put into words the magnitude of what this kind gesture has meant? I really don’t know how to begin.
I am always delighted when Spirit orchestrates such lovely happenings. Events that are so obviously Divinely Inspired are certainly no accident. As I look back over the last couple of weeks, sadness has often gripped my heart. Holiday preparations sparked many great memories of the 45 Christmas’s that Brian and I have shared but with the memories come the painful reminders that there will be no more with him at my side.
With this gift comes comfort. Knowing that even though Brian is no longer in the physical, through this “Fellow Keeper of Light” his legacy of quiet thoughtfulness and generosity has been carried on.
I will forever treasure this Christmas gift. And many years from now, when I too am on the other side, this envelope will be found amongst my treasures. This amazing soul heard the whispers of Spirit and through a 7-year old boy named Blake, has kept my husband’s memory alive in a truly kind and thoughtful way. Thank you.