Wednesday, 30 May 2018

No hands are too small

Usually during the holidays we treat ourselves to a McDonalds breakfast.

It’s our little family tradition.

A combination of pancakes, sausage McMuffins and hash browns with copious amounts of unhealthy fat and sugar. My fav is the McDonald’s coffee. It’s amongst my favs. Far better, in my opinion, than Starbucks or Caffè Nero. Love it and love it when we all sit around the table, say grace together and then dive in. Breakfast usually has that silence when everyone is chewing away and there are no words but just the joy of eating. No “can you eat up your vegetables”, negotiating how many mouthfuls left, or procrastinating through toilet visits, refilling waters and so on. You get the picture. It’s a guilty pleasure. We know that there are better alternatives. But it’s our little tradition.

This holidays we were avoiding mentioning this little tradition as we have no money.

These last few weeks have been very testing. Car servicing and a decision to go for a holiday (with hardly any money) rather than wait for something to turn up.

This morning Caleb meandered in and cuddled up in bed and then reminded us that we haven’t done our usual thing. There it was. The mention of something that we were hoping to avoid. Eek.

We had to turn and explain that this time we may need to forgo our usual pleasures. That we are struggling right now. We just cannot do it. We don’t have enough. He nodded. Said nothing and we... we counted our blessings that there were no complaints or battles. He then leaves the room.

It’s tough knowing that we can’t always provide for our family especially the little things that are seemingly meaningless and even a luxury but have helped us build up our memories as a family. It’s not a big thing. We can do without it and we are no way the poorer for missing out on this silly and indeed, unhealthy, tradition.

Moments later he comes back and says I would like to pay for us to have our family tradition and treat. He had £25 in his hand.

Angie turned to me with tears in her eyes that quietly acknowledge that in one gesture of a 12 year old boy reminds us that no hands are too small to help and provide for one another. And that silly family traditions are important too. They help build us up ready for tomorrow’s challenges. Together.

Thank you son.

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