Saturday, December 25, 2010

Have Yourself a Ruby Little Christmas Time

Joe was off buying a last minute gift. Mike and Marissa had taken Sadie off to be changed. Ruby decided to stay with me. This is new. Not that she made the decision but that we allowed the decision to stand. Up until now I was very uncomfortable about being left alone with Ruby when we were out in a mall, store or cinema.

She is a happy and active child. But she is a child. And children are impulsive and run off. I knew that in my wheelchair, I'd not be a good person to supervise her. If she ran, there were places I couldn't follow. Places with curbs, places with narrow aisles, places where she could disappear and I could not follow. But now, at four, she understands my limitations and she is very happy to stay with me and stay in sight.

We trust each other.

At one point she was leaning up against the wheelchair. 'I'm tired,' she said. I asked if she'd like to sit up with me. She nodded. She lifted her arms up and seconds later she was sitting with me on my lap. We talked about Christmas. She loves Christmas. The presents, the wrapping, the music, all of it. She can sing Rudolf all the way through without error. It was a natural topic for us as we were surrounded by the season.

She saw a picture of Santa in a store and pointed saying, 'There's Santa!' I nodded and asked her if she was going to get lots of presents from Santa. She said that she was. 'So you're not on Santa's naughty list?' She shook her head and said, 'No, I've been a good girl.' I thought about it and, really, she has. Then she surprised me.

'I don't think that it's right.'

'What?' I asked.

'I don't think that you should be good to get presents. I think you should be good because it feels good."

I was quiet, thinking, and she asked, wanting a response, 'Right?'

I said, 'Right.'

Everyone was back and we headed to the hotel to open presents. One of the presents we got Ruby was a pair of really cool cowgirl boots. She actually jumped up and down and immediately went to put them on. It was obvious that they were a size too small. Her face crumpled in disappointment. My heart broke. Then, she gave the boots a quick hug ... she did love those boots ... and took them over to her sister. 'Here Sadie, you can have these.' Sadie, whose feet are too small yet for them took a boot, dropped it, and then hugged her sister.

Christmas reminds me that ability isn't about anything other than loving.

All the rest is immaterial.


Jan said...

Ruby is definately a special girl and you are very lucky to be part of her life. It is nice to hear about the special bond she has with her world and those who inhabit it. Just think of what a wonderful world it would be if everyone thought like Ruby.

Kate said...

That's a great story about the true meaning of Christmas :)

Sandi said...

Ruby is an amazingly insightful kid. I wish others 'got it' too. She sounds like a delight!

Manuela said...

Merry Christmas Dave and Joe. Im not surprised at Rubys comment given the influence of both of you in her life. You have both taught me how a few words of acknowledgement said out loud not just at Christmas but all year long makes a huge difference. Thank you for your influence, your wisdom, your humor and most importantly your friendship. Have a wonderful day. And to all the blog readers, whatever you are celebrating this holiday season, may love, peace and humour be part of your days. Merry Christmas

Amy said...

Merry Christmas, Dave and Joe!

Meredith said...

All your Ruby stories make me tear up. What a lovely person.

Merry Christmas to you all!

Anonymous said...

Nollaig Shone Dave and Joe!
Love Linda (LinMac)

Colleen said...

Dear Dave and Joe:

Merry Christmas!

Thanks for the story about Ruby, she truly is an amazing child.


theknapper said...

so are you on the hunt for another pair of boots?!

Kristin said...

Ruby is wise way beyond her years. Thank you for sharing her with us. Merry Christmas!

Andrea S. said...

Awwww ... Ruby is such a kind and loving girl!

Re, letting Ruby sit in your lap:

In my old apartment building (where my partner and I lived before we moved to where we are now), there happened to be a Dad living somewhere in the building who I would occasionally see rolling through the lobby or whereever in his wheelchair, sometimes with his little girl. The girl sometimes walked by him, sometimes rode in his lap. (And presumably still does.) I often thought this girl must consider herself lucky to have a Dad who always has a lap ready for her!

Am today slowly catching up with the blog posts I missed at RAIMH while I was out of town.