How did I end up living a thousand miles from my son, Snow Cloud? He's a long-haul truck driver, driving a giant sixteen wheeler, delivering freight from Texas to Maine. He loves his job but I'm lucky to see him once a year.
I knew I'd be alone at Christmas, and I was feeling very sorry for myself. I packed boxes to mail to my daughter in Hawaii and my son in Australia-my children live across the ocean. I live in Seattle; Snow Cloud will be on the opposite coast.
I mailed a box to Snow Cloud, hoping he'd get it before he hit the road. I bought leather work gloves lined with warm sheep wool, a really nice metal model of a semi-truck, a box of his favorite chocolates and a couple of western books for him to read. Who knows where he would be at Christmas, probably at a truck stop in Maine with strangers-no family, no friends, no turkey dinner.
Snow Cloud was indeed at a truck stop in Maine on Christmas Eve. His waitress was young and pretty, and he felt sorry for her having to work on Christmas Eve.
While he was eating, he saw a man and woman and a boy about eight years old come into the cafe and sit in a booth. They looked exhausted, like they'd been on the road for hours. They studied the menu and the man and woman ordered hamburgers and the boy wanted pancakes.
They looked tired and sad. It was Christmas Eve, but they weren't smiling or laughing; they didn't even make the effort to talk. These weren't people who were on the road on Christmas Eve because they were going to a celebration or family holiday; these were people who were on the road because of illness or death or financial problems. They were obviously sad, they were suffering, they were alone.
Snow Cloud paid for his meal, leaving a large tip for the waitress who was cheerful in spite of working Christmas Eve. He walked out to his truck and got his new leather gloves, the model of the semi truck and the box of candy and returned to the cafe. He walked to the booth where the family was waiting for their food.
"Santa Claus asked me to deliver these gifts to you and to tell you that the New Year is going to be a happy one," Snow Cloud said and handed the man the leather gloves. "A working man needs a good pair of gloves."
"And a lady can never have too much chocolate," he said and handed the box of candy to the lady. "And a boy can never have enough toys."
The boy grabbed the truck and the look on his face was sheer joy. The woman was wiping her eyes. The man stood up and shook Snow Cloud's hand.
"You'll never know what you've done tonight. God Bless You!" the man said. "You are a Christmas miracle."
"The New Year will be better; you have a wonderful family. Merry Christmas," Snow Cloud said and walked outside.
He looked back at the cafe. The family was laughing and talking, the boy was pushing the toy truck around the table, the man was pulling on his new gloves. The waitress was smiling and waving at him.
Snow Cloud was happy. His mother had sent him three perfect gifts to share with a family who needed some Christmas cheer. The waitress was standing at the window waving at him. There was a candy cane on his windshield; the waitress had waded through the snow to leave a candy cane for him.
It's funny how a box of gifts could travel from Seattle to Maine and be there at exactly the right time to make all the difference in the world to a family of strangers on Christmas Eve.
Every Christmas, Snow Cloud remembers the family at the truck stop and I'm sure they've never forgotten him. He talks about how it was almost a miracle the way I had put the perfect gifts into his box so that he had the perfect gift for each person in that family.
It was a Christmas miracle.
Crying Wind is the author of Crying Wind, My Searching Heart, When the Stars Danced, Thunder in Our Hearts, Lightning in Our Veins, and Stars in the Desert. You can order your copy at https://www.indianlife.org/store/
