Travis Story

One year, not so long ago, when Travis was about ten and Hayley Westwood was about six years old, it was Christmas Eve, we had been somewhere, it was late, and we got back in town, saw Wal-Mart was still open and we had the opportunity to stop and get that “one last gift” from Santa Claus for morning, for Hayley.

She was asleep in the back seat, and Tami had told me what to get and where it was and she would sit in the car with Hayley and would wait on us . She had talked below the radio, kept whispering and finally got me to understand what she wanted.

We pulled into Wal-Mart, the parking lot was about cleared, pulled way up front and parked and when I got out, Travis got out as well. We ducked through the cold air, started inside, and he was keeping up with me.

We just got through the second set of double doors, when I looked over at him and said “We’ve got to get Hayley’s other present from Santa Claus and get outta here and get to bed”.

Trav looked at me (both of us keeping up our pace to the toy area) and said, so seriously with such a dynamic (that told me he would someday grow up and speak before great crowds), with all the manhood to become the instant child/man in two seconds:

“Dad, you mean there is no Santa Claus?”

You could of kicked a hole through my middle. I ran out of breath, tears welled up in my eyes, my heart broke in about fifty pieces as I walked and stared into that boys face, totally without the breath to pull off any words to try to make this horrible, awful, once in a lifetime moment, come to an end, he looked at me sincerely, winked, and broke into the broadest grin and said:

“Gotcha!” and laughed like the kid who had just gotten his Dad better than anytime I had gotten him .

Whew. Made my life suddenly easier.

Ralph Peck