We are leaping toward Christmas Day, and my head gets filled with many things. Some are memories and this one from close to thirty years ago is a sweet one.
Ned was maybe eight and Peter twelve. Money was in short supply and the amount allocated for Santa to spread among the four boys meant there would not be a lot under the tree, and Ned needed a bicycle, the year's big ticket item.
I was tucking Peter in his bed one night, and from the tenderness I saw in his big blue eyes, I could tell he had been thinking. Knowing enough about the situation, he then made a sacrificial offer. Lying there looking up at me and in his most quiet voice, he told me to take any money we would spend on him and use it instead toward the bicycle for his little brother.
On Christmas morning, Ned got his bicycle and Santa came to see Peter, too, but what I remember most from that year is the loving heart of the selfless big brother.
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