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A Christmas thread: My mom was doing some last-minute shopping yesterday in Rocklin when a van pulled up beside her in the parking lot. She was briefly startled.
When the window of the van rolled down a boy -- maybe 8 or 9 -- reached out with a bouquet. "These are for you,'' he said.
My mom was grateful but baffled. The boy's mother saw her confusion and explained: "For Christmas, he wanted to drive around doing nice things for people."
The kid hit the jackpot here. As my teary mom told the boy, this is her first Christmas without her husband. My dad, Dean Brown, died in August, a few days after their 56th wedding anniversary. She was having a rough day.
The kid smiled. The van drove off, presumably to do more nice things for strangers. My mom said she finished her shopping trip smiling, then cried all the way home.
This was the message I got.
Anyway, here are my parents, Dean and Sherrie, on their wedding day in 1964. And here's a toast to that 8-year-old super kid doing kind things in a world that has never needed it more.
