Sometimes, it can be a bit more elaborate than that.......
One of the best things I ever did was surprise my mother for Christmas. Actually, I surprised everyone but my co-conspirator, my sister-in-law Grith. The idea was simple.
1. Tell no one.
2. Fly home, take the train from airport and show up at their house unannounced.
3. Swear my brother and the kids to secrecy.
4. Next day, surprise Mama when she shows up for Christmas dinner.
This was one of those blessed times when a simple plan went off without a hitch. As I wheeled my suitcases up the road to my brother's house on an early Saturday morning, I was giddy with the fun of it. I wanted to tiptoe the entire way, never mind my suitcases were making a hellish noise of their own that I feared would wake all the neighbors never mind my family. But I made it to the house unnoticed and rang the doorbell.
To my great glee I could hear them arguing about who should go down to open the door. Everyone was in their pyjamas. Grith did an admirable job of talking my brother into it. I straightened up and smiled broadly as he opened the door. I was giggling like a mad woman as I sang out Merry Christmas, Ho-Ho-Ho, to his stunned face. The look on his face was worth the airfare alone.
Next came the kids tumbling down the staircase, eyes big as saucers, and finally Grith, grinning every bit as broadly as I knew I was. It was a fine surprise, but best of all was still surprising my mother.
When she arrived the next day, the kids and I huddled on the couch behind the Christmas tree. We had decided against me opening the door for her as she was carrying the much coveted Christmas roast and we feared it could end up on the floor. Eagerly we waited and watched, giggles kept in check as we watched her make multiple trips to and from car to kitchen with various platters of food in hand.
When finally she returned empty handed, we counted to three and yelled Merry Christmas as she stepped through the door. She turned, a touch taken aback at the loud children and stopped dead as she saw who the third loud child was. Her eyes popped wide, her mouth opened in a slight huff and her hands flew to her heart. She stumbled a step backwards and my brother rushed to her side and grabbed her arm.
For seconds she could make no noise. Then it came out all in a rush, a confusion of my name and tears and how and when and big gulps of air. I don't know who felt more loved in that instant, me at her reaction or her that I had gone to the trouble and expense of flying home to surprise her. But love was in the air and a happy Christmas was had by all......
It's a fine memory on a cloudy day, a fine thing to remember. It was a moment when I felt at my best, a living pillar of love, an expression of the finest in me that I had to offer - pure tenderness for another being and the desire to bring that being joy.
I thought of that day when I came across this little video of jazz singer Michael Buble in a very fine moment indeed as he appears to receive an unexpected surprise, courtesy of a determined mother. Perhaps it was staged as some will claim, but if it was, they all do a very credible job of pulling it off. However it came about, it's a fine interplay of the human spirit at work, an interplay of love, grace and plain good humor.
And that, in itself, can be a sweet surprise.
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