Years ago, David and I were at the wedding of David’s brother John and his first bride-to-be. We were their best man and bride’s maid respectively. They have since divorced. In any event, the night before the event, we had stayed at their then residence.
In the middle of the ceremony, poor little Jesse, age 3, became very ill multiple times. Each time, we took him back to John and Sue’s residence so that he could get some rest from whatever was ailing him. Or so we thought. By the third time when his condition worsened, we decided to take him to the emergency room. The ER doctor surmised that it had to be an allergic reaction to something. To help pinpoint the root cause, he had his nurse poke the little boy’s arms with every conceivable potential allergen.
As a mother, having to watch my little one being poked countless times was quite upsetting, to say the least. I could almost scream at the nurse but, of course, I bit my tongue. Instead, I said, “Jesse, I know it hurts but she is trying to help find the cause so that you can get better.” Then, as if completely understanding what I was thinking, he said, “Mommy, it doesn’t hurt.” I was stunned. At such a tender age, his emotional maturity level was far above that of most adults.
As a result of the tests, it was determined that he was allergic primarily to cats’ dandruff, horses, and household dust. In addition to horses, John and Sue had four indoor cats. Jesse loved petting them. Every time we thought we were bringing him back from the church to their house to rest, in reality, we were putting him back in harm’s way.
Let’s fast forward to when Jesse was around 4 years old. We had lived in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin for a few years already. Jesse’s paternal grandpa Jack had put in a redwood fence all around the backyard so that little Jesse could play in a safe environment; his brother Jason was still a baby at the time. Jesse loved his huge backyard.
One summer’s day, Jesse picked up a dandelion from our backyard and brought it to me as a gift. Oh, how precious it was! To this day, I still see the image of him from that day in my head. That remains the best gift I have ever received from anyone – bar none! When I tell Jesse this story, he says, “Mom, I know, because you’ve told me a million times.” Oh, well, I’m afraid I’ll be repeating the same story until the day I die – because there was no doubt in my mind that the gift came from the purest heart of a little boy to make his mommy happy. This is one of my most cherished memories of a lifetime.
