Santa’s Little Helper

Rough around the edges, some people are. But I do believe, given the opportunity, anyone, everyone, has a soft spot somewhere. Sometimes they (or maybe I)  just have to get beyond themselves to reach it.

When I first met The Lawyer I approached him with a pocket full of prior information about prior actions and attitudes, and prior choices and portrayals. None of which were incorrect, mind you, though maybe my prior judgement of said subject was. You see, I forgot my own rule of “everyone has a soft spot somewhere” – even those of us who barrel through life with the most stubborn of streaks.

But, I digress.

I’ve heard tale of The Lawyer being rough, gruff, tough, and all the other “-oughs” you can think of. Quite the large personality, this one has. I have a girlfriend who owns a business whose runners would have to frequent The Lawyer’s office. None of them ever wanted to have to be the one to go there. The Lawyer was scary, possibly mean, and maybe a little demanding. Think “Beast” from “Beauty and the Beast,” before Belle calmed his little butt down. Can’t say I blame the kids for not wanting that assignment – I wouldn’t have at that age either. Walk into his office unannounced and there’s no telling what you’ll hear or the scowl you’ll see. Not that you’re necessarily the recipient of any of it….or maybe you are. Best of luck to ya.

But then, when you give someone – especially folks like him – the chance to show what they’re truly made of, you get to see the beauty of the soft spot, the gentleness of a caring soul, the kindness of the heart, quiet generosity that pours over constantly. And then you realize it is there all along and truly the dominant traits, but that sometimes the delivery of the louder, less dominant traits is just a little, shall we say, off, so those loud traits take center stage, giving the false perception of dominance. Not as confusing as I just made it all sound, I promise.

I’ve been the recipient of his love and generosity for some time now, and quite frankly I’ve donated his love and generosity on his behalf more than once, too. He never says “no” when I ask him to benefit his generosity in a certain direction. In fact, most of the time he doesn’t even roll his eyes at me. But he doesn’t really want the world knowing, lest his rough guy lawyer persona reputation become tarnished with something less than sandpaper.

But when has anything like what someone else prefers ever stopped me from telling the true story? Yeah, very seldom.

So, I’m gonna tell ya.

Just one of the very many ways The Lawyer spreads love and cheer and generosity and kindness with no need for accolades or pats on the back is by playing Secret Santa for the kids at the hospital. Every holiday season for probably a good fifteen, maybe twenty years, The Lawyer has made a Walmart run and loaded two buggies to overflowing with toys, dolls, cars, boardgames, balls, and the like, and dropped them at the pediatric ward at our local hospital. And I do mean drops them off. That’s it. Just drops them at the nurse’s desk and says Merry Christmas!

Of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that when his girls were little, he’d take them along on the shopping spree and when they’d pick out something they wanted he’d say they couldn’t have it and they’d have to put it in the buggy for the kids in the hospital. Lawyer!!!! I swear that man is a MESS! But he was teaching his girls about being generous, how well they had it and how others aren’t as fortunate, and being in the hospital at Christmas when you’re a kid really stinks. I don’t think he scarred them for life, but perhaps, just maybe, his delivery was a little, shall we say, off.

We all laugh about it now.

His girls are grown (and not scarred) and have families of their own, so now I get to be the lucky one to go with The Lawyer on the shopping spree each year. And what a joyous occasion it is! We each get a buggy, go up and down every aisle, pick out toys large and small, and then The Lawyer tells tall tales at the register. This year? Told the check-out girl that he wanted to stop at 20 kids but that I insisted on having 25 kids so here we were buying Christmas presents for all our children. Bless her heart, I think she believed him. He can spin a good one, for sure. I just smile and neither confirm nor deny. It’s what I do best.

Then off to the hospital we go. He drops me at the door, I find a wheelchair to transport the goods, and up the elevator to pediatrics we roll. Always a good, tear-filled time. Just like now, as I write this, and we’re in the car headed down the highway. He’s just too much, y’all. Just too much.

The nurses always want his name so the head nurse can send a thank you note, to which he generally replies “nah, I’m good. Y’all have a Merry Christmas.” And off we go, on our Merry Christmas way, to yell at people in traffic, cuss at folks on the interstate, and stuff like that. It’s all about balance.

Now you know a little secret about The Lawyer and can see just a smidgeon of why I love him so. I hope this little story sparks in you the desire to see the best in others, search for the soft spot in yourself when you don’t really feel like it, and spread some generosity on whatever level you can, even if it’s just a little two dollar toy for the neighbor kid who has the flu at Christmas. Spread all the love and cheer you can. I promise you’ll enjoy it and never regret it.

So, don’t tell him I put this little tidbit out into the Weberverse. We’ll just keep it our little secret, ok? 😉