This I Believe

Kyra - Olympia, Washington
Entered on April 1, 2007
Age Group: 30 - 50
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Today my son turned seven. He awoke early and came bounding into the living room with golden retriever energy.

“Hey mom, is it my birthday?”

“Yes,” I respond as he cuddles up next to me, a smile plastered across his face.

Through half-opened eyes, he blinks in the morning light and says, “Can I have my last clue?”

For days, I had been doling out hints to the whereabouts of his birthday present; his little sister had innocently revealed the present’s contents to him and I tried covering with an “untruth”, along the lines of “the store had run out of what you wanted…I had to buy something different.” With sobs of disappointment I tried to explain how some things need to be a surprise.

With the present safely hidden out of sight where he could not reach I was able to lure him with a game of mystery. The rules were that he could receive a clue daily as to the whereabouts of his gift with the final giveaway clue landing on his birthday. The gift was exactly what he wanted.

He pounced off to wake his sister with his new noisy toy and I looked over to a stack of photos I had been culling. A photo from a friend’s birthday party featured doubloons and eye patches for all. Just yesterday, I had run into the mom who hosted that party. Her son walked by as I was explaining that we were not having a big party this year. He looked up confused and I quickly added, “We are doing a special family celebration.” The boy walked away and his mom said he had already set the theme for his next party that was five months from now.

My husband and I had batted around ideas and guest lists but instead we bought the last tickets to a children’s play and made a card with the ad from the play taped to it. I tucked it into the present, along with two second hand Mickey Mouse videos.

I choose to believe that some kind of magic will happen because I am limiting excess and making room for more in our lives. Yesterday I placed two bags of culled goods at the “free box” at our local food co-op and found a pair of magenta suede boots in good condition that fit my daughter, and four small ceramic mugs perfect to replace the sippy cups no longer a necessity in our house. There is always more. There will always be enough.

I felt validated as I watched my son cut out the side panels of the box that had held his toy. He would save the cut outs for a later art project. He looked up and said, “I am so grateful, I don’t know what to say.” There is always more. There will always be enough and this I believe.