ONE LAST CHRISTMAS STORY

One more Christmas Story Before the Holidays are over.

My eldest, the Wild Child, is recuperating from colon resection surgery for cancer and has not yet been approved for travel by her surgeon. However, children and Christmas are very important to our family. The Wild Child's RV on the river isn't large enough to host her chapter of the Thundering Horde, so she opted to go to her younger son's home for the event. When the Wild Child is determined, neither surgeons, hell nor high water will deter her. Upon orders from his mother, her son Franklin drove the distance to carefully chauffeur her to his home. All the children were asleep by the time of her arrival.

Christmas morning, Franklin beat on the boys' bedroom door and shouted that Santa had come! The boys were instantly awake and bolted for the living room, little 3 year old Donovan in their wake, his small body twisting from side to side and his elbows pumping as he ran as fast as he could. A few feet from the tree, he fell to his knees and slid the rest of the way (how do little kids DO that?). His eyes sparkling in awe and ecstasy, he looked around to share that moment with his parents and siblings, and he spied his beloved Nana sitting on the couch. Toys, gifts and the magnificient tree forgotten, he screamed, "Nana!" and dashed to her.

Throwing his little arms around her neck and bouncing up and down in joy, he yelled over and over, "My Nana's here! Santa brought my Nana! Santa brought my Nana!"

The unconditional love of a child is one of the most precious gifts of life, and Donovan's love was the best Christmas gift of all to the Wild Child.