By Michael Joyner
Shortly before Thanksgiving in 1962 the family moved to a small town in Tennessee. I was in seventh grade and my sister, Kathy, was in sixth. My father was a serviceman, so we were accustomed to moving often. We found moving interesting and exciting. We didn’t have much choice, so that was our way of accepting it. This time we looked forward to a bigger house, with a yard and a dog. But on-base housing was full, so we lived for a while in a small house in a poor part of town. People called them shotgun houses, because if you opened the front and back doors you could shoot a gun through without hitting anything. There was a living room inside the front and a bedroom at the back, with a kitchen, dining room and bathroom in the middle. Mom and Dad slept in the bedroom. Kathy and I slept in the living room, with me on the couch and Kathy on a cot.
Moving also meant that we learned to travel light. We didn’t hang on to much other than clothes and a few prized possessions. My favorite item was a football that was worn from two seasons of use, but I still played with it almost every day in the fall. That was how I met Tommy.
It didn’t take long to find a place to play football by myself. It was a field in between our house and one exactly like it, except that people lived in that house year-round. That first afternoon I was warming up with a few punts, when the front door opened. A boy stepped out and started watching me. He was about my height but a lot less filled out. It was clear he wanted to play. I kicked the ball in his direction. He caught it and threw it back to me. “Good pass,” I said. “Wanna play?”
“Sure,” he replied, “Kick it down there and I’ll go get it.”
Tommy and I played ball every day after school. He and I were in the same grade and he had a sister, Anne, a year older than Kathy. Every morning we would wait for the bus together. Once we got aboard Tommy and I never sat together, since ours was the last stop. I sort of liked it that way. I was becoming fond of Tommy, but I knew we would not be friends for long because soon I would be moving on.
The first few days I couldn’t find Tommy at lunch. I figured he had his own lunch buddies. Then one day I found him sitting on the steps of the gym and discovered the real reason. Instead of buying lunch he and his sister brought things from home, so they didn’t bother to come inside. I thought that was sad and told my mom about it that night.
The next morning Mom made sandwiches for Kathy and me. At lunch I found a spot on a stairwell inside the gym and asked Tommy and Anne to join us. Mom started packing extra things, which were intended to be shared with Tommy and Anne. We enjoyed trading for some of the exotic things their mom prepared, such as biscuits stuffed with sausage and ham and homemade pickles.
Tommy knew a lot about football. His father had a part-time job delivering newspapers and that gave him access to the sports page. Anne was very bright and would often challenge Tommy and me to talk about something other than football. She was a gifted artist, and the Friday before Christmas she won a bag of chocolate peanut butter cups for her painting of the Nativity scene.
That year Christmas fell on a Sunday. Dad, Mom, Kathy and I planned to go to a Christmas Eve church service. Early that afternoon Mom asked Kathy and me a question. “Have either of you thought about a gift for your new friends? You don’t have to buy anything. Just make something or wrap up one of your old books.”
Kathy and I knew Mom wasn’t making a suggestion. “I’m not good at making stuff,” I protested. “And we just moved so I threw away almost everything I had.”
“Tommy likes your old football,” Kathy said to my horror.
“I’m not giving him my football,” I said firmly as I folded my arms in front of me.
“You might not need it after Santa Clause gets here,” Mom said as she winked at me. I got the message. I was getting a new football!
I raced to the living room and retrieved the old ball. As I wrapped it all I could think about was my new football. Kathy put one of her old dolls into a box and tied a ribbon around it. Mom wrapped a loaf of pumpkin bread and we headed over to our neighbors’ house. We handed the packages to Tommy’s mom as she said several times, “But we didn’t get you folks anything.” We just said, “Merry Christmas” and went back home.
That night, I woke up just before dawn and tiptoed into the dining room to find my new football. I could feel the pointed ends and smell the fresh new leather. I was beside myself. I put the ball back under the tree and went back to the couch. I looked out the window and saw something on the porch. There were four parcels lined up on the steps. I brought them inside and opened the package with my name on it just as my sister awoke. “What’s that?” she asked. My eyes welled up with tears and my hands trembled as I held a small glass jar filled with chocolate peanut butter cups. On the side of the jar it said, “To Mike, my best friend.”
I put on my shoes and coat. “Where are you going?” Kathy asked.
“I just have a quick errand to run,” I replied as I tucked my new football under my arm. I ran to Tommy’s house and tapped on his window. When he peered out at me I whispered, “Come to the front door.”
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“You didn’t open your present yet, did you?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “Mom said I had to wait until Christmas is here.”
“Good,” I said, “I gave you the wrong one. Go ahead and open this,” I said. “Your Mom won’t mind.”
He tore open the paper and gasped in astonishment. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “An official NFL football, just like yours.”
“Merry Christmas, Tommy. Let’s play some catch today,” I said as I backed down the steps.
“You bet!” he replied. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
As I ran back home I saw Kathy standing at the door. “You gave Tommy your new football, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?” she asked. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted,” I answered as once again I held in my hand the little jar filled with chocolates. “But I think this is what I really needed.”