A Christmas Story

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
  • Place: Dexter, MI
  • Time: December 1997
  • Characters: A four-year-old boy and his mother

Shortly before Christmas, a young boy and his stressed and distracted mother were exiting the grocery store on a dark and rainy evening. Without a care in the world, the young boy stepped off of the sidewalk and into the path of an oncoming car. His mother grabbed the cloth of his jacket and pulled him back onto the sidewalk.

“Dude!” she exclaimed. “That is why we hold hands and look both ways before we step off the sidewalk. You need to look out for cars. They can’t always see you. You need to stay right here beside me. You need to hold onto the cart; you need to hold my hand. That car could have hit you and you could have been hurt badly. Instead of opening presents on Christmas, you could be sitting in a hospital bed sucking soup.” (Not really her finest hour as a nurturing mother.)

“Why?” he asked.

“Because,” she continued on in frustration. “A car could hurt you very badly. You could have owies all over. Hopefully you would get better at the hospital, but you might have to be there a long time and it could hurt an awful lot.”

The boy climbed in the backseat and was silent while his mom put the groceries in the trunk and drove them home.

Later that evening, the boy, along with his mother and father, decorated the Christmas tree. “Mom,” he said during a quiet moment, “thank you for pulling me out of the way of that car. I wouldn’t want to have to go to the hospital. I don’t like soup.”

Merry Christmas, Everyone. Wishing you more joy and less soup for the holidays!

Photo by Anna Sommer on Pexels.com

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