Christmas week came and he showed up. I had the three large boxes wrapped and on my lil red wagon and he toddled off to the car pulling the wagon to unload into the trunk. He brought back the wagon and thanked me.
The week after Christmas - he shows up with his sons. All laughing at some private family joke. The boys had come to thank me for the houses I had built and to see some of my other art.
It seems, at Christmas, in Louisiana, the boys presented Dad with a present and Dad, in turn handed out the three boxes.
In Dad's box - a gorgeous bird house the boys had found in Louisiana. In their boxes of course - the special bird houses he had had built for them - they are all radical Louisiana State University fans.
Neither side had any clue what each had planned.
Now, that is Christmas to me.
PS: As a caveat to that. The same lil olde man showed up at my booth last month at Market carrying, in a large laundry basket the large bright pink (yes, bright pink) very large top of the line bird house he had bought from me the year earlier - very mangled and very broken. In tears he explained a tree had fallen on his house that week in the storm that had blown through. He asked how much it was going to be to fix. Told him, as I had explained when he bought the house, that there is no charge for repair ever. And, a week later I brought back his reassembled and re-built "pink" bayou bird house - and off he toddled a happy little camper. He came back the following week to thank me again as, by now, he had it mounted back in the front yard right outside his front window. He told me he felt it was "home again" cos he could see the little house in the morning sun, under the large oak in the front yard, when he got up and sat down with his morning coffee.
That is why we get up before dawn to go too market. Its all about the love, on both sides, of the products made, bought, and sold with so much love.