I have over
six decades of perspective when it comes to December 25th. It always
makes me think about my maternal grandparents.
Jim and
Evelyn Hodge were very common Southern Illinois folk. Jim grew up in Nashville
and Evelyn in Ashley. They grew up in the depression. There was nothing….and I
mean nothing to celebrate. Jim and his family hunted to eat, When he was old
enough to, he jumped on the trains that rolled through Washington County and
rode them around the country.
Against that
backdrop, he learned of work at an ammunition plant near Alton and went there
to land a job that he would keep for decades. She raised their two kids. One,
of course, was my mother.
I tell you
that so you understood their meager beginnings. He only had an 8th
grade education. She never understood my going back to college when I was 40.
I told her,
“Grandma, I’m wanting to get my doctorate.” She said, “Michael, if you can’t be
healing anyone…you can’t be a doctor.”
They were
the best grandparents anyone could have ever hoped for. They were honest and
worked their fingers to the bone so that they could find the perfect gift to
always make my Christmas magical.
I know I
pale in comparison as a grandparent. Their standard was so high….so difficult
to duplicate.
The best
gift I ever got was a gold Schwinn Stingray with a white banana seat. It was
the corvette of its time. I took care of it. I valued it.
They gave it
freely, out of love and...by doing so…. transmitted incredible joy to their
ten-year-old grandson.
My wish for
you on this Christmas Eve is that type of joy.
You see, I was smart enough even back then to know it wasn’t about
getting a cool bike.
It was about being loved.
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