When I visited NYC last month, I wanted to bring back something for the kids. Not a toy…not candy…even though there were plenty of both in the stores we visited. I wanted it to be something that would tell them that I was thinking about them while I was away, but didn’t know what that would be until my mom pulled me over to the corner of a little jewelry shop in Bryant Park. There was a little basket of glass stones in the shapes of hearts, moons, and suns. Perfect, I thought, it will be a “giant pebble”.
Madi and Parker each have a decorated mason jar where they are collecting “pebbles” or colored glass stones for obeying or doing chores cheerfully or without being asked. The jars are being filled up slowly, mostly because I am anything but consistent, and also because Fiona shrieks for “her” pebble every time I give the other kids one (just a tad annoying).
I wasn’t disappointed. Madi picked out her stone and immediately ran it upstairs to put it on one of her many “special boxes”. Fiona squealed and dashed off with it tucked safely in her hand, at least until she found her next most interesting toy. (I found it later under the trampoline.)
But Parker, my dear Parker. You would have thought I gave him the moon. He took his little heart shaped pebble and carried it around for days. He even brought it to “sunshine church”, which is where I attend Bible study, and sang a rousing song to his class about his “pebble”.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Parker follows in the long tradition of hunter-gatherers, finding little treasures wherever he goes. Rocks, acorn tops, black walnuts…nothing is too small or too ordinary to escape his eagle eye. Just this past weekend, he meticulously picked an overflowing handful of tiny red berries off of one of our trees, and insisted on putting them in a ziploc bag and bringing them up to his room. He always has a little collection of goodies around his seat at the table, little prizes from Chuck E. Cheese or scraps of paper he taped together.
But this pebble wasn’t just special because he found it in the backyard, it was extra-special because he got it from me. It gave me a warm tingle every time I saw him wandering around the house with my heart tucked inside his hand.
A week later, the thrill has worn off a little. The little stone has made it’s way to Parker’s special box instead of hanging out in his pants pocket. But it definitely reminded me, as we head into the holiday season, that it is not about the size of the gift, but the size of your heart.
I love you, buddy boy.
