My dad and his youngest grandson. Thanksgiving, 2007
The Christmas I was almost five, I so wanted a Baby Pat-A-Burp (really!) doll that when my parents took me to visit the department store Santa,  I asked for that one thing only. I had a strategy–I figured if I only asked for one thing, I was sure to receive it.
On Christmas Eve I began to doubt the value of my plan. I worked myself into a meltdown: Sobbing, I explained that I had asked Santa for only one thing, my Baby Pat-A-Burp, and if he didn’t bring me that one thing, I would receive nothing for Christmas.
Christmas morning, a bounty of gifts awaited my sister and me (my brother was still, as they say, a twinkle in Dad’s eye). The first box I opened contained the much-coveted doll. Christmas would be just fine.
Several years later I learned that in fact, my maternal grandparents had bought the doll as a gift to me. Following my meltdown, after my parents had tucked my sister and me in to bed, my father drove an hour to their home, delivering to them a gift that he and Mom had bought for me, exchanging it for the doll.
Lots of dads would have been satisfied to know that before the day’s end, I would receive the much-hoped for toy.
Not my dad. I was desperate for Santa to deliver the doll. He made it happen. It was worth two hours out of his life to drive to his inlaws’ home late on Christmas Eve so that my dearest wish could be fulfilled.
Happy Father’s Day to dads everywhere.
1How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him.
1 John 3:1 (NLT)