Lit(tle) boy.

December 4, 2010

Inspired by a true story that took place in Illinois.

He was just two, battling against an invisible foe whose name he couldn’t pronounce.  Leukemia.

And one day, the Captain said to him, “Soon it’ll be time to put down your sword, little one.”  His parents, battling beside him, heard the word and bowed their heads.  Hearts slain — who can adequately describe it? — but still.

They held him near as the news settled in their hearts.  How soon?  They weren’t sure.  Weeks, maybe.  But they held him near, tucking away the memory of his frame, his smile, his scent.  And as they did, an idea began to emerge, perhaps an idea given by the Giver of every good gift.  He’s got to have one last Christmas. But it was only October.

Papa climbed the attic and blew dust off of a box.  Train set. And another. Tree ornaments. And another.  Christmas lights. “Yes,” he thought, as he looked at the lights.  “He’ll love it.”

Strains of Dora the Explorer music and the little boy’s laughter came from the family room.

The timer sounded in the kitchen, and Mama opened the warm oven.  Cinnamon, ginger, sugar, butter. Now it smelled like Christmas, too. She glanced at the calendar.  Next week it’d already be November.

“A little early to be putting up Christmas decorations, isn’t it?” Neighbor asked with a chuckle.

Papa’s eyes stung from little pools that suddenly collected in their corners, but he smiled and gave a tug at the line of lights.  “My boy’s gotta have one last Christmas.”

Next day, when Papa came out to grab the morning paper, he gave a soft cry.  Neighbor’s home was decorated, too.  Early.  For Christmas.

Day after that, when he came out again for the morning news, Papa gave another cry.  Mama and the little boy came out to see, too.  The whole street was decorated.  Early.  For Christmas.

Over the next few weeks, as the angels watched from above, one house at a time in that town was decorated — like a line of Christmas lights, lit and tugged through town as each heart was tugged.

And each evening, Mama, Papa, and the little boy went to see the Christmas decorations.  Candy canes in lawns, reindeer on rooftops, lights.  So many beautiful lights.  And so much love for the little boy.  For Mama and Papa, too.

As November progressed, the sun set earlier and the nights grew longer.  But more and more Christmas lights appeared across town, across the city, across the nation.  It tugged at Mama and Papa’s hearts to see them.  As for the little boy, he didn’t think it strange at all; because as far as he was concerned, it was Christmas.

Christmas came and went that year.  And so did the little boy.  He went, but not until he shed light on a whole town, and many towns beyond that town.  (Not unlike another Little Boy who once came.)

And when he went, he went to meet the One who came to bring life.  And light.  To a world of setting suns and long nights.

True, lasting light.

(Read the actual story about the little boy Dax Locke here, here, here, here, and here.  The true copyright of this Story, though, is held by the Father of lights.)


2 Responses to “Lit(tle) boy.”

  1. alice t Says:

    have you heard/watched this yet? if not, get the tissues ready..

  2. tia Says:

    alice, that video is one of the links (maybe the last one?) i put at the end of the my post … and i cried like a baby while watching it … ahh ❤

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