Spider-man

Have you ever taken the time to think of all the people you've ever known in the course of your life?

(If you haven't I encourage you to do so.)

It's incredible how many people come into our lives. Some you may forget, even though you promised to be friends forever. And with others, forever may have ended, but you'll always wonder about them.

One such person who was in my young life is a man I only know as "Spider."

Spider became a friend of our family after meeting my mom at the restaurant where she worked. He was a regular and soon he was a regular in our lives.

When asked, he told my sister and I he was called Spider because he wasn't afraid of anything. And after the time he put our goldfish on his tongue, we believed him.

I remember he liked to eat the french toast sticks from Carl's Jr. And I remember one visit he brought me a watermelon pencil case. We have an old picture of him on a boat, so I guess he liked sailing too.

I'm not sure when we lost touch with Spider. Maybe when we moved.

But years and years later, I saw him again.

It was Christmas Eve and I was going to college in Los Angeles. My roommates had chipped in and bought me a plane ticket so I could fly home for the holiday.

On the way home from the airport with my dad and grandpa, we decided to stop for some fast food.

I recognized him right away. He was sitting at a table. He was dirty and didn't look very healthy. But I knew it was Spider.

It was confirmed when my dad said, "Hello, Don."

He hugged us and we began to catch up on all the missing years. I could tell he was happy to see us.

Then he showed us how he had made the camper on the back of his truck into a nice home. He was very proud of his work.

Soon it was time to go and so we hugged him again and my dad gave him some money. Spider wanted to give us something too and so he gave us a big bag of shredded cheese. He also gave us his mailing address.

I wish I hadn't lost it, or at least used it before it disappeared.

Once we got into the car, I called my mom and the tears started flowing.

She tried to console me, explaining that that was the life he wanted to lead.

And maybe he always had and I was just to young to comprehend it.

I still think about him often and that fateful Christmas Eve. I wonder how he's doing, if he's healthy, or even still alive.

I wonder if I ever went back to that fast food restaurant just off the highway, if he'd be there.

Eating french toast sticks.

God bless us, everyone

On Saturday a few friends and I gathered up a handful of the Christmas cards we'd made in our Bible study and walked up the long driveway to Country Lane Estates. While walking we discussed the Christmas carols we'd sing and what we'd say. We dressed festively, me in green the other girls in red. I imgined we were like a sprig of holly.

Once we got through the gate that was "to keep them in, not us out," as Sarah said, we stood around awkwardly, not sure where we were supposed to go in. It looked just like a house, not a hospital or clinic like I thought. After further inspection, I was pretty sure we were in the right place because I saw a white head of thinning hair through the window. And once I walked around the corner and saw another just like it, I knew we were there.

Finally locating the doorbell, we met the lady who worked there and were ushered in to meet the five ladies who lived in the care home. All of us were full of smiles and even though we'd never met these women before, I felt connected to them. Maybe it was the spirit of Christmas, or maybe it was how welcome they made us feel. I felt myself choking up when I saw how happy they were to have visitors. And honestly, I felt just as happy to be there.

We handed out the song books and those of them that could, sang along with us. We asked for requests, and one lady, Connie, suggested one after another. I was surprised at how good we sounded, but I also knew I couldn't take credit for any of that. They applauded after each carol ended and after singing four or five, we took the opportunity to give them the Christmas cards.

I think if we had handed them each a one hundred dollar bill, they wouldn't have been any happier than they were with the cards. As they looked them over, cooing over how lovely they were, they were even more impressed to hear that we had made them, thanks to all of Vanessa's scrapbooking supplies.

Alisha led us in one more carol and then it was time to go. We talked for a few moments then took each of their wrinkled hands and wished them a Merry Christmas. As we were leaving, we were peppered with invitations to come back and visit anytime.

And then it hit me...

I think I will.