Christmas was the time that little Bobby like all children yearn and impatiently wait with anticipation. The joy of gifts, Santa and that Christmas dinner that tastes so good.
Something seemed different though this time. Mommy didn't seem as happy as she usually was and daddy hardly spoke to her anymore.
Had he done something wrong to cause all this? He was sorry, so sorry even though he couldn't recall what he could have done to cause all this. Such a heavy load for someone so small to carry on their shoulders. Innocence is a time of freedom and joy or should have been. Such things were becoming more and more foreign in Bobby's home. He was overwhelmed. Lost in this ugly confusion that threatened to destroy everything it touched.
Two days before Christmas Bobby was playing by himself when he realized something terrible had happened. Something he couldn't prevent if he had wanted to . As he listened, he heard sobs from the kitchen. A long, heart wrenching, torturous cry that tears the heart and soul from the tortured person.
Mommy sat at the kitchen table, her head resting in her folded arms, wet with tears that escaped from her in her sorrow. Bobby wandered in and put his little arms around her, holding her as close and as tight as he possibly could. His life line, his mother needed his comfort. Daddy was no where to be found and she needed him. Bobby couldn't understand, but he did know that he could give love, the ultamate gift to his mother. As infectious as laughter can be, sorry can also bear heavy upon another.
Standing there, watching his mother pour out her sorrow for a love gone bad, a marriage that no longer existed and a little boy who would no longer know the joy of daddy tucking him into bed at night, reflected in her emotions to him.
And Bobby cried.
Dalton Lasher
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