Fruitcake always gets a bad rap this time of year. Apparently, it's known as a pity gift to people or a gift for someone you don't particularly like. My son Trevor is in a play on Sunday, and he was practicing his lines today. His very first line mentions "fruitcake." He went on practicing, but I couldn't get the fruitcake out of my mind.
Dewayne has always been special. I'm not really sure of the medical abnormalities that he may suffer with, but he is indeed special in other ways too. Always eager to help, and always willing to lend a hand or a strong back, Dewayne loves his church and community. Affectionately known as "Chick," to most people, the story is told that when he was a child, he didn't think there would be enough to eat for a particular meal. He went to the yard and wrung a chicken's neck, and carried it to his mother to cook. In his heart of hearts, Dewayne always just wants to help. He loves Jesus, and He loves people.
When I was a child, he loved the kids in our church. Even though his legal age was that of an adult, he played with the kids in the church in the yard during choir practice. He was literally our tree that swung us around by our hands, ankles, and was always picked first for a team when we were going to play Red Rover. He was an umpire during softball games in the cemetery (don't ask), and he was the resident referee during times of squabbles and disagreements. Every summer, he would come and get my sister and me and take us fishing. He patiently baited our hook only to watch us cast the line straight into the tree.
And Every Christmas, without fail, he would bring a fruitcake to our home. His sister apparently made fruitcakes for friends/family each year, and Dewayne always made sure that our family received one. He didn't have much to give, but he made sure that we knew we were loved. And we did. When I was a really small child, I didn't see the big deal about fruitcake. But as I grew, I realized the sentiment behind the fruitcake. No, he didn't make it with his own hands, and no, he probably didn't pay for it either, but he made sure that we got one. Because he loves us.
Today he still loves us, and I know it. When I'm in town, he always wants to see me to see how I'm doing. He always tells me that he's proud of me, even though I'm 35 years old now. And he loves my children, even though he doesn't know them that well.
I wish everyone loved like that. I wish everyone knew the joy that Dewayne carries in his heart. I've never seen a heart so pure.
This time of year, we get hurried, frazzled, stressed, and downright angry at the way people act. And sadly, sometimes the holidays bring out the worst in us. This year, I'd give anything to have a piece of that fruitcake...just to remember the depth of love that we as Christians can display if we just spend time and share with others. We don't have to give extravagant gifts or decorate elaborate cookies. Sometimes the most-often joked-about gift can be the best...as long as the recipient knows we care.
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