The Perfect Penguin

All my five-year-old son could talk about for the past two months was that he wanted to get me a snow globe for my birthday. He mentioned it so many times that he really believed he was going to be able to buy it for me. The faith of a young child is something so precious that I began to ask my family to help him.

I called my sister. She said she would try, but her husband who has been working out of state for a long time was home and she didn't know when she could get away and take my son shopping.

I told my ex-husband about our son's wish. He told our son that because money was tight, Mommy wouldn't get a snow globe, from him anyway.

I asked my mother, but since she lives in the next town over, she didn't know if she could find a chance to take him shopping either.

Four days before my birthday, it suddenly hit me that it was up to me. My son had never before showed any interest in gift-giving before, and I was so impressed with his selflessness that I had to do something to help him.

So on my afternoon break, I made the trek to the local gift shop. I entered and slowly maneuvered through the aisles, trying to find something I could afford. I felt guilty looking at the various snow globes. I panicked as I lifted each one and saw the price tags: $24.99, $29.99, $34.99! I knew there was no way I could afford any of those globes, and I said a silent prayer that there would be one I could buy.

Finally I spotted it. It was much smaller than the others I had looked at. It was the perfect one: upon a light blue base decorated with white snowflakes was a cute little penguin, a red scarf around his neck, a snow cap on his head, a wreath in his hand and a candy cane in his other, nestled within the water-filled sphere. It was the globe my son would have picked himself, had he been allowed to choose.

I held my breath as I carefully picked it up. I closed my eyes as I turned it over. I paused for a moment, and then peeked at the price. Tears filled my eyes as I slowly let out my breath: $9.95. It was still more than I wanted to spend on myself, but it was much more affordable than the others.

I approached the counter with trepidation. I wasn't sure how to do this so my son would feel he purchased the globe himself. I asked the sales clerk if she could hold the penguin behind the counter for my son, who would be in later to buy it. She smiled and winked at me, assuring me that she would help him.

I told the story to my manager when I returned to the office, and she told me she would take my son to the store for me. I gave her cash, which she pocketed to give to my son when the time was right.

When my son got off the school bus at my office, I quickly pulled him aside. I squatted down in front of him and whispered, "Remember how you wanted to get me something for my birthday?" He quickly nodded as he looked into my eyes. When I told him that my manager was going to take him shopping, the first words out of his mouth were, "Does she have any money?" His voice was so full of hope and excitement that once again, tears filled my eyes as I assured him she did.

Off they went, my son's little hand in hers. When she entered the store, my manager approached the sales clerk and asked to see the special snow globes they had behind the counter. She gave the money to my son, who then handed it over to the clerk. My son bought me a birthday present.

When he returned to the office, the look on his face was so incredible I wish I had taken a photo, not that I would ever forget it. He had been so sad lately, but not that day. He pranced through the door, his head held high, his smile infectious as he bounded toward me, proudly proclaiming, "Happy Birthday Mom!" He held the bag with his surprise package high in the air for all to see.

After I told him I would wait until my birthday to open it, his grin practically split his face when I begged him to tell me what was in the little box. He looked at me and replied, giggling, "I'm not telling you!"

My son taught me a valuable lesson this season: he believed. He had a vision, a goal, and he was determined to achieve his mission. So what if I had to lend a helping hand? He never said how he was going to manage buying me a snow globe for my birthday, just that he was going to. Life is filled with enough disappointments; I couldn't allow myself to contribute to them.

Yesterday, when I was opening my present, I kept my gaze on my son. Again, that excited, hopeful look was upon his face. So what if he blurted out "Mom, it's a snow globe!" before I got it open? It wasn't about the penguin. It was the unbreakable memory of my son's unselfish act that will live in my heart forever.