I kept the Santa hat on the kitchen table for three days.<\/p>\n
Every time I passed it, I thought about Walter.<\/p>\n
I wondered what he would have said about everything that had happened.<\/p>\n
He probably would have told me to stop worrying and get on with the day.<\/p>\n
Then he would have asked whether I had enough pecans for Christmas.<\/p>\n
That was Walter.<\/p>\n
He had a way of making ordinary things seem more important than they were while making the important things seem surprisingly simple.<\/p>\n
By the first week of December, our plans were settled.<\/p>\n
We would spend Christmas morning at Westdale, helping prepare the community meal.<\/p>\n
Afterward, everyone would come to my house.<\/p>\n
There would be dinner, presents, and pecan pie.<\/p>\n
Renee had promised to bring the casserole she had made the previous year.<\/p>\n
Patricia would prepare the stuffing.<\/p>\n
Adam had volunteered to handle the turkey.<\/p>\n
I had written everything on my kitchen calendar.<\/p>\n
This time, I wrote the names of everyone who was coming.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to leave anything to assumption.<\/p>\n
On the evening before Christmas, Lily called me.<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandma, do you still have Grandpa's Santa hat?\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I wear it tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can try.\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad says it used to fall over Grandpa's eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was part of the entertainment.\u201d<\/p>\n
She asked whether I would be handing out presents again.<\/p>\n
I told her we would see how the day went.<\/p>\n
After we hung up, I took the hat from the table and placed it beside my handbag.<\/p>\n
I had finally stopped treating it as something too precious to touch.<\/p>\n
It was a hat.<\/p>\n
A worn, ridiculous, faded red hat.<\/p>\n
But it carried memories I wanted the children to have.<\/p>\n
The next morning, I arrived at Westdale before the others.<\/p>\n
The air was cold, and the parking lot was nearly empty.<\/p>\n
I carried my handbag inside and went straight to the kitchen.<\/p>\n
Clare was already there, checking the food deliveries.<\/p>\n
She looked up when I entered.<\/p>\n
\u201cJoanne! You're early.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought I'd better get here before Adam starts trying to cook.\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour son has already promised to help with the turkeys.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is exactly what worries me.\u201d<\/p>\n
We both laughed.<\/p>\n
Then I tied on my apron and began working.<\/p>\n
The dining hall looked much as it had the previous year.<\/p>\n
Paper snowflakes hung from the walls.<\/p>\n
Small Christmas trees stood near the windows.<\/p>\n
Tables had been covered with bright cloths, and volunteers were arranging plates and cutlery.<\/p>\n
I found myself looking toward the storage room.<\/p>\n
The gray cabinet was still against the far wall.<\/p>\n
The handwritten label remained on its door.<\/p>\n
WALT'S CABINET.<\/p>\n
I walked over and checked the handle.<\/p>\n
It opened smoothly.<\/p>\n
Adam had done a good job repairing it.<\/p>\n
I ran my hand over the metal surface.<\/p>\n
For years, I had thought of that cabinet as one more object Walter had left behind.<\/p>\n
Now it seemed to represent something different.<\/p>\n
My son had repaired it.<\/p>\n
Not because I asked him to.<\/p>\n
Not because anyone offered him money.<\/p>\n
He had done it because he wanted to contribute to a place that had mattered to his father.<\/p>\n
I felt proud of him.<\/p>\n
I was still looking at the cabinet when I heard footsteps behind me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam stood in the doorway wearing a red volunteer apron.<\/p>\n
He looked at the cabinet, then at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes it work properly?\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cPerfectly.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cGus checked it after I finished.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father would have liked that.\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam looked at the label.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think he would have.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a moment, neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n
Then he put his arm around my shoulders.<\/p>\n
\u201cReady to work?\u201d<\/p>\n
I leaned against him briefly.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlways.\u201d<\/p>\n
The others arrived a little later.<\/p>\n
Renee and Patricia came together, carrying bags of ingredients.<\/p>\n
Lily followed with a stack of paper napkins.<\/p>\n
Noah was carrying a small box of rolls that he insisted he could manage himself.<\/p>\n
He nearly dropped it before we reached the kitchen.<\/p>\n
Adam caught the box.<\/p>\n
\u201cCareful, buddy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI had it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course you did.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
The children were eager to help, although their idea of helping changed every few minutes.<\/p>\n
Lily arranged the napkins.<\/p>\n
Noah counted the rolls, lost count, and started again.<\/p>\n
Renee and Patricia prepared the stuffing.<\/p>\n
Adam worked on the turkeys while Gus supervised him from a safe distance.<\/p>\n
I returned to my usual place beside the mashed potatoes.<\/p>\n
It felt good to be there.<\/p>\n
Not because everything was perfect.<\/p>\n
Because nobody was pretending to be perfect.<\/p>\n
When Adam needed help, he asked.<\/p>\n
When Renee wasn't sure where something belonged, she checked with Clare.<\/p>\n
Patricia admitted when she had forgotten an ingredient.<\/p>\n
We solved each small problem as it came.<\/p>\n
There was no shame in asking.<\/p>\n
That lesson had taken us longer to learn than it should have.<\/p>\n
By late morning, the dining hall began filling with guests.<\/p>\n
People arrived in winter coats, carrying children, bags, and sometimes nothing at all.<\/p>\n
The volunteers greeted everyone.<\/p>\n
Clare moved between the tables, making sure the meal was ready.<\/p>\n
I served potatoes.<\/p>\n
Adam helped carry trays.<\/p>\n
Renee and Patricia brought food from the kitchen.<\/p>\n
The children handed out rolls and napkins.<\/p>\n
At one point, Noah looked at a man sitting alone near the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy is he here by himself?\u201d<\/p>\n
I followed his gaze.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe he doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with.\u201d<\/p>\n
Noah thought about that.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen he can sit with us.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
He seemed completely certain.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat's a kind idea,\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n
He went to ask Clare whether the man could join one of the family tables.<\/p>\n
She helped arrange a place for him.<\/p>\n
Noah returned looking pleased with himself.<\/p>\n
I watched him run back toward his sister.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I remembered Walter carrying groceries into the center years earlier.<\/p>\n
He had never made a great speech about helping people.<\/p>\n
He had simply noticed what needed doing.<\/p>\n
Then he had done it.<\/p>\n
Perhaps that was why his influence had lasted so long.<\/p>\n
It wasn't in the objects he collected.<\/p>\n
It was in the small decisions he had made when nobody was watching.<\/p>\n
Near noon, I stepped away from the serving counter to refill a bowl.<\/p>\n
Clare was standing beside the storage room door.<\/p>\n
She nodded toward the office.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere's something I want you to see later.\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing urgent. Finish your work first.\u201d<\/p>\n
I returned to the kitchen.<\/p>\n
There were still meals to serve.<\/p>\n
And for the first time in a long time, I was happy to have somewhere I needed to be.<\/p>\n
Source: kaylestore.net<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n I kept the Santa hat on the kitchen table for three days. Every time I passed it, I thought about Walter. I wondered what he would have said about everything … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10508,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10517","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-sharestory"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10517","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10517"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10517\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10529,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10517\/revisions\/10529"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10508"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10517"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10517"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10517"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nClick here to continue reading: PART 10: A Young Mother Approached My Serving Table With Her Child, and Her Quiet Words Showed Me What Walter’s Legacy Had Really Become<\/a><\/strong><\/h2>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"