“Bill,” Sandi called from the kitchen, “Are you done yet?”
I was setting up the railroad track around the Christmas tree very late on Christmas Eve and the stiff, plastic track was being stubborn.
“Not yet,” I answered. I sat down to rest my aching hands and knees and looked at the half-finished circle of track around the Christmas tree. I knew why I was working my fingers raw and driving my knees into the hardwood floor of my living room. It was for the boys, sleeping angelically in their bedroom. Partly, I admitted to myself. It was also for me. I remembered my dad telling of when he worked for the railroad and the fascination that he always had for trains, sharing his love for trains with me. I worked now to share that delight with James and Ian, to give them something that they can enjoy all of their life and pass on to their children.
Reinvigorated, I bent down and worked another section of track into place. It wasn’t only the trains, I thought as I struggled with each piece of track. I remembered how much Dad liked aircraft and how he enjoyed taking us to air shows. I take my family to air shows now, not just because I enjoy them, but also because I want the boys to learn the beauty of flight. Dad also loved fishing and the outdoors. He showed me where wildlife lived and hid and I remembered showing James a hollow in the grass where a rabbit had kept warm on a cold autumn night. Dad taught me how to fish and I taught my boys. The look on their faces when they pull in their first fish is worth any inconvenience or discomfort.
Dad valued integrity, too, and I will never forget the look of disappointment on his face when I broke my word to him. I try to show the importance of integrity to all of my children by example. I don’t want them to feel the way I did when I let my father down.
I wrestled with the final section of track, finally joining it on both sides. Time, I reflected, was the most important gift. Dad gave of himself, from small family outings to group activities. He subtly taught me how to be a man and a good father and I hope I have lived up to his example. I have involved myself in the lives of my children, feeding them, bathing them, helping them to grow and passing on the values that he taught me.
I looked on the finished circle of track around the tree. Like countless other men, I still had toys to assemble before bedtime, but I was content and looking forward to the morning. I get my favorite gift every Yuletide and it is always the same. I watch my excited children delight in Christmas morning, opening the gifts that appeared from nowhere as if by magic.
Bill Bartlett lives in Belton with his wife, Sandi, and their two sons.