If Eric asks me what I want for Christmas, my standard answers are a pony and a diamond tiara. Now, I really do have a few heart’s desires, but in my adult brain I’ve rationalized cost, practicality, and maybe I haven’t really been that good of a little girl. If I don’t specifically ask for them, I won’t feel embarrassed for sharing my secret needs.
Afton is six and knows if you have a heart’s desire you have tell your mom, dad, school teacher and Santa. She doesn’t think about cost per wear, financial priorities, or considerations of space and practicality. If you asked Afton what she wanted for Christmas this year, she would tell you that her heart’s desire was a car to play in… with doors.
Eric and I always approach Christmas shopping with a budget for each child and a desire to give them some “Oh, wow, how did they know? Anything is possible!” Christmas magic. We also try to meet their mundane needs — new jeans, socks and underwear don’t really thrill a kid but they do keep their knees, toes and bums warm.
After our shopping for Afton was complete, she had nice little gifts. Eric and I had even looked at $300 Barbie cars, but they just seemed like such a pink waste — even if they did have doors.
I felt the vehicle Afton really wanted was one for her imagination, not one that rolled down the sidewalk at 2.5 MPH between charges. She needed something that let her speed away from the bad guys bullets flying or could take her for a quick trip to the market. I thought she needed a cleverly painted cardboard box with doors cut in the side.
While I recognize that I have many talents, art is not one of them — but I do have friends. One of my friends is a certified Da Vinci type artist. One Sunday after church, I asked her if she could help me make a cardboard box car for Afton. Susana, my friend, said she’d made box cars for her children when they were small, but pointed out the drawback of building with cardboard is that it is not very durable. Paint it and cut windows and doors and it’s even less so. She suggested something more like a soap box racer.
A few days later Susana had some plans to show Eric and me. It was amazing. She rolled out four feet of butcher paper with all sorts of lines and dimensions to be cut. I was off to the hardware store — for what would be the first of many trips, and came home with a sheet and a half of plywood tied precariously to the roof of my car. I kid you not I drove all the way home between 10 and 20 MPH with my hazard lights flashing trying to watch the road and keep my eye on the side view mirror in hopes that the plywood hadn’t slipped free from its ties and crushed some unsuspecting compact car.
What the heck had I gotten myself into? I don’t know how to use power tools (Eric not a lot better) and since I value my fingers this could end in tragedy.
Not infrequently in the course of building this one-of-a-kind car I thought of Seward’s folly. Seward was the guy who said the United States should buy Alaska from Russia. He took a lot of flack — I mean his name is still connected with “folly” but in the end Alaska (Sarah Palin excepted) worked out pretty well for the United States. Would this project go down in history as Shannon’s folly? Or just one of Shannon’s many follies?
Also along the Alaska connection — we worked almost entirely in an unheated garage and it was cold, cold, cold, like pioneers die of exposure cold. Despite my ski coat, hat and gloves I’d still be numb after hours of working on the car. I would come home from Susana’s covered in sawdust and glue and wrap up in a blanket and sit on the heating pad until the auto-off kicked in.
A week and a half later on Christmas Eve we snuck a car into our house. Eric, Gerrit, and I have jigsawed, sanded, puttied, primed, painted, pilot-holed, screwed, nail-gunned, glued, taped, hefted, measured and froze, but building Afton’s one-of-a-kind heart’s desire made Christmas for me really special. It also allowed me to leave other worries behind. The wrapping would get done but who really cares about bows? We don’t have to bake every Christmas confection known to man. The kids can watch hours of TV on Christmas vacation.
Eric and I, with the help of Susana and her family made Santa’s workshop, heart’s desire, anything is possible kind of magic.
Eric, for next Christmas I just want a diamond tiara… with doors!
Shannon that was a memorable accomplishment! I really enjoyed the story, maybe as much as Afton enjoyed the car with doors. And it really ended up looking like a great car! Nice work. It’s always nice to be able to fulfill your children’s desires.
Dad Smith
Coming from someone who has made a little sawdust in his life, I have to say, pretty impressive! And the machine gun turret on the hood is a nice addition.
oh, and Tyler and Chloe want to go for a ride too
This is soooo much better than a Barbie car!!
Wow! I am impressed! Can you make me one of those next year? Except maybe green?
My Dearest Daughter, Thank you for sharing this Christmas gift, It reminds me of all those mornings we likewise tried to bring a little magic to Christmas morning. And to be rewarded by that glow in Aftons face makes it all worth while. I am a little sad because Afton and the boys are growing so fast that I hardly recognize them. I guess we are going to have to learn to Skype, Thats What I want for Christmas.
So precious!!! Does the car even have a trunk? We are so excited to see the happy faces, and the fun they are having with imaginations in tact! Now we’ll be looking for what will surpass this one next year!
Shannon I have always loved you and admired you…. now I am totally blown away. I can even feel the magic you created, and even more than that, what a labor of love for Afton. What can I say wow wow wow. I am impressed.