The gift is in a box, with tacky red and green striped paper and matching red bow, tucked under the arm of a weary man with a brown wool cap pulled down over his quickly graying hair, shuffling up the steps of his son’s brownstone; he is finally, able to fulfill he wishes of a 9 year-old, boy that had grown up waiting for him.
The green and white toy truck, with big black tires and a Dinosaur on the side, is a toy that every little boy wants, deserves, even if he has to wait 20 years. The recipient of this gift has his own children and an almost decade long marriage; the giver is trying to make up for lost time.
We all know we can’t turn the clock back and fix our mistakes; but what we do with the time we have, by trying to make things right or at least better, is doing all we can do.
“Merry Christmas, son.”
“Thanks Pop,” he says, and chuckles at the eccentricity of his old man; one can hear the appreciation in his warm laugh; and feel the chasm left from the 20 year old Christmas debt, get a little smaller.