When they finally reached my daughter-in-law's sister's house, I was one very happy lady to see them again!
Soon after they arrived to the Denver area, where we had gone to greet them home, I asked my seven year old grandson what route their flight had taken. "Over the North Pole," was his reply. "Yes, we flew over the North Pole," he said again with a look of amazement on his face. "The North Pole, really?" I asked. At his age I would not have even been able to fathom such an experience. I felt almost foolish asking my next question, "Did you see Santa Claus?" I mean, really, do you ask a seven year old if he saw Santa when he himself just flew over the North Pole? "No," he said with all seriousness, he had not seen Santa, Mrs. Santa, or any of the elves. "It was really dark outside. It was dark. We couldn't see anything." He then went on to recount that they had also flown over Russia after they had flown over India. After flying over Russia, they found themselves flying over the North Pole.
Soon after his grueling journey, I glimpsed my grandson as sat on the couch seemingly trying to adjust to the cold Colorado weather he had just encountered after boarding a plane in a tropical country. He was the very picture of jet lag. Before long, my world traveler was asleep with his beloved Oso, the teddy bear that I gave him for his very first Christmas, tucked under his arm.
Sometimes, you give or get the perfect gift. I think that dear old bear was the perfect Christmas gift for my little grandson back in 2002. In 2010, he was the perfect gift for this grandma. He came special delivery via the North Pole.
Welcome home, Jon, Sam, and Atticus!