25 December, 2011

"though I've grown old the bell still rings for me..."

Many years ago, Jennifer and I threw a party for Stephen Wilcomb's (of Brunschwig and Fils) Birthday at our home. A night that will forever go down as one of the most nerve racking dinner parties I have ever thrown, considering the guest list...
Carmie Dennis, gave me a book that night; The Polar Express. Carmie, wrote inside the book that I reminded him in many ways of the little boy, and it is that copy that I have read to both Isabella and Eloise. When I read it then, I passed by the last line of the book, but now I find myself having to pause and collect myself as I read it to them...


"at one time most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years past, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear it's sweet sound. Though I've grown old, the bell still rings for me as it does for all who truly believe"


When I was 9, it was a particularly tough year for my Mother, raising two boys on her own and that year unbeknownst to my Brother and I, we each received a charitable gift from our Church. That morning, we found two packages, one said "boy age 9-11" and the other "boy age 6-9". A friend of my Mother's son would watch my Brother and I from time to time when my Mother had to work and he was a big Dallas Cowboys' fan. And so growing up, we became Dallas Cowboy Football fans...
Inside that package was a woolen hat and gloves, with the Philadelphia Eagles colors and team logo on them. I will never forget running up the stairs to tell my Mother that Santa did exist!
For the first time in my young life, it all made sense as I ran up those stairs, I never believed that Santa could logistically hit every house in one night (around the world) and maybe just maybe if you where really, really good that year, he would come to your house and how could he possibly know I was a Cowboy's Fan, I mean how could any man really remember what a child truly wants...


On that morning, "the bell" rang and for this Father, I hope it never, ever is silent.


Merry Christmas!


Warm Regards,


Michael J. Lee

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