Today was Barry’s eighth birthday. I wanted to make it unique, but unique things require money, and we don’t have any at the moment.
Nevertheless, I managed to eke out enough cash for a modest meal at the neighborhood diner. Burgers and fries, nothing special. He didn’t voice any complaints. He never does.
I looked at the menu when the waiter asked whether we wanted dessert, the pricing making my stomach turn. Barry took note. He shook his head before I could respond. With haste, he declared, “I’m full.”
I was aware that he wasn’t.
The man at the adjacent table then raised his voice. “Pardon me, ma’am.”
I raised my head. His badge was shining in the light as he donned a ranger’s outfit. It said J.M. Timmons.
He grinned. Would it be okay if I gave the birthday guy some cake?
I paused, my pride and reality at odds. But before I could respond, Barry took us both by surprise.
“No, sir, thank you.” He spoke in a courteous but forceful tone.
Timmons’ eyebrow went up. “Are you certain, child? You have a birthday today.
Barry pressed his lips together and nodded. “I want to keep the wish intact.”
There was silence between us.
The ranger asked softly, “The wish?”
Barry looked down after giving me a quick glance. He said, “I wished for a bike last year.” “I didn’t receive one.” He took a swallow. “I want to wait until I know it will happen this year.”
That small diner was where my heart broke.
Timmons was silent for a while. Then he grinned. He got up and said, “Well, kid, I think I can help with that.”
The ranger took out his wallet and placed a clean bill on the table before I could respond. “For the cake.” and any wishes that accompany it.
I started to object, but he shook his head. “This is a treat for me.”
Barry’s large brown eyes were filled with doubt as he gazed up at me. “It’s all right, Mama?”
My pride was swallowed. Kindness is sometimes intended to be received. I gave a nod. “Don’t worry, sweetie.”
The waitress, who had been standing close by, smiled as she washed her hands on her apron. “There’s a chocolate cake on the way.”
With a single candle flickering on top of the slice of cake, Barry sat still. With his tiny hands in his lap, he gazed at it for a while.
Timmons squatted beside him. “Go ahead, child. Make that wish.
Barry inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and muttered something to himself before extinguishing the candle. I briefly believed that the small flame had ended as it flickered and vanished. It was only a kind stranger’s gesture.
Then Timmons got up. “I would like you two to wait here for a little while, if that is okay.”
I scowled. “For what purpose?”
He smiled. “As a small surprise for my birthday.”
After twenty minutes, we heard tires crunching on gravel while we were standing outside the diner. When a truck arrived, a second man in a uniform got out and pushed something next to him.
A bicycle.
A sparkling red bike with handlebars tied with a ribbon.
Barry’s jaw dropped. His eyes widened as he faced me. “Mom?”
Timmons laughed. “Well, kid, it turns out that wishes do come true.”
My throat constricted as I gazed. “However—”
Timmons gave his neck a quick rub. “I requested a favor. This was being held onto by a friend of mine at the station. Someone who wanted it to go to a good home gave it last month. It seemed fated.
I blinked hard to keep from crying. “Officer, we are unable to—”
He softly interrupted, “Yes, you can.” “I observed how your child prioritized you and didn’t want to ask for more than he believed you could provide. His heart is good, and good hearts are worthy of excellent things.
With his hands hovering over the handlebars as if he was scared to touch them, Barry dashed forward. “Is it mine?”
“All yours, child.”
He faced me. “May I ride it, Mama?”
I nodded and gave a weak laugh. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”
He got on, stumbling a little at first, but then he began to peddle, and as he rode in circles around the parking lot, his laughter filled the air. His face was beaming with happiness.
I looked over at Timmons. “I’m not sure how to express my gratitude.”
He gave a headshake. “No gratitude is required. Simply continue to raise him as you are.
Barry yelled, “Mama!” as he cycled by us. My wish was fulfilled!
At last, I allowed a tear to fall down my cheek. “Yes, darling,” I muttered. “It did.”
Barry gazed up at me drowsily that night as I put him into bed. “Mom?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Perhaps I’ll make a wish for you next year.”
I smoothed his hair after taking a deep breath. “My dear, you don’t have to do that.”
He gave a yawn. “But I might.”
I became aware of something while I sat by his bedside and listened to his steady, quiet breathing. It was more than just kindness today. It has to do with hope. about having faith that decent people are still out there, ready to step in and change the world, even in difficult times.
And perhaps, just possibly, dreams do come true.
Please share this story if it moved you. Kindness is still very much alive and well, so let’s remind everyone.
