THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, January 8, 1995 TAG: 9501070114
SECTION: SUFFOLK SUN PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Mr. Roberts' Neighborhood
SOURCE: Frank Roberts
LENGTH: Medium: 74 lines
Christmas is usually a mix of joy and tears. Hopefully, the accent is on the former.
Our seasonal joy was visiting Arkansas to be with two of my grandchildren; the tears came when it was time to leave.
Steven, our extremely bright first-grader, walked down the hall, his eyes averting the rest of us. A few moments later, he came back.
He had gone to get something - anything - that we could have as a remembrance of a fun-filled vacation and came back with a paper filled with a lot of small drawings.
``You wanna take this with you?'' he asked.
``Hey,'' his sister said, ``that's mine.''
But Sara, a couple of years older, grasped the situation, smiled, and said, ``You can have it.''
When Steven handed the paper to us, we just about lost it - our composure, not the drawings.
Just a little gesture, but so much love.
We see Steven and Sara only once or twice a year, but the love grows each time, a bond that is stronger than iridium (look it up), a bond that can never sever.
Steven feels that way, too. He said, at one time, ``I wish North Carolina was in Arkansas so we could be one family.''
His mom, Becky - I wrote about her a couple years ago - has multiple sclerosis and is confined to a wheelchair.
Her parents, Bill and Barbara Stalcup, have done a beautiful job helping to raise two super kids who are loving and lovely, bright and joy-filled.
Sara is a step-granddaughter, but as much a part of our lives as Steven and the three grandchildren who live near us.
Steven's dad is my middle child, Clay. We went with him to Arkansas, the first time in our family history we did not spend Christmas at home, in Hertford, with the local branch of the family tree.
There was nothing local this year. David, the oldest, went to Northern Virginia to stay with his girlfriend's family; Jennifer, the youngest, went to Florida to stay with her boyfriend's family.
Steven stayed with us, every night, in the Beebe, Ark., motel and found every excuse in the book to return.
``I left some of my stuff there,'' he liked to say, ``so I have to go back.''
As if we would have had it any other way.
It's fun being with him and listening to him.
Now, I know there are other grandparents reading this, but - sorry, folks - Steven and Sara are the best.
Listening to Steven is always a kick.
At one time he saw a film logo on television and noted, ``That's Warner Brothers. There's a Warner sister, too.''
Steven is a talker, and a thoughtful youngster.
``When my thoughts run out,'' he said once, ``more come in.''
Bear with me. Just a couple more Steven-isms:
``When you dial the operator you have to use your pinky.''
``I wish I could fly so I could get a star.''
``If the moon were a cookie, I'd fly up and get it. The holes in the moon are chocolate chips.''
Finally, he was walking backward one time and noted, ``I'm re-winding.''
There - I got all that out of my system. I promise, no more family-pride stuff.
Well, not until I see him again this summer. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
Sara and Steven, the objects of grandpa's affection, live in
Arkansas, but the bond between them keeps growing.
by CNB