The Magic Lantern

For his fifth birthday, my son Robert wanted a fort more than anything in the world. By “fort” he meant a big, wooden swing set—one of those cedar jungle gym kind of things with a slide, monkey bars, swings, rings, a sand box, and the most important component of all—a crow’s nest with a canopy. The covered crow’s nest is what made the whole contraption a fort. It was a place to hide out from pirates, space aliens, and zombies. Yes, it was cowboys defending Fort Apache from the Indians when we were kids, but this is the Space Age. Even the pirates are from another galaxy these days.

I had done my homework and knew that buying one ready to assemble was a big cost savings over having one delivered and assembled by the dealer. My husband Jim resisted. No wonder; his options were to fork over big bucks and build it himself, or fork over even bigger bucks to pay someone else to put it together for us. My friend Susan listened with amusement to my tale of Robert’s approaching birthday and Jim’s stubborn opposition to the idea of a fort. Susan has a son of her own and she knew all about boys and what they like. Her son Tanner is several years older than Robert so she had been through all this already.

Hold the fort.

The big day came and Robert had a nice birthday, but there was no fort. Jim had succeeded in postponing what I already considered to be the inevitable. I was certain that I could wear Jim down and that Robert would eventually have his fort. My campaign was short. That evening Susan delivered the coupe de grace. It was a total surprise when the doorbell rang and we opened the front door to Susan and her family with a birthday present for Robert—a toy signal lantern. “We thought he might need a lantern for his fort. Let’s see the fort!” declared Susan. When I explained that there was no fort, she gave Jim a very hard time. It was all delivered with humor, but it was very effective.

A few days later, Jim, Robert and I selected a cedar swing set with a canvas-covered crow’s nest, hereafter referred to as “the fort.” It was a do-it-yourself kit, and before assembling it, Jim consulted with our immediate neighbors to make sure that the huge structure would be placed in an area that would not obstruct anyone’s view. Our male neighbors generously volunteered to help build it (for a few beers). The fort was an instant hit with Robert and his friends, and the signal lantern had many hours of play in and out of the fort.

Come and get it.

As the years went by and play became less and less imaginative and more and more electronic, interest in the fort faded along with its finish. After a time, Robert and his friends were too big to play in the fort. The only action it was getting was down in the sand box under the crow’s next. Our cat Slinky found it quite handy. It wasn’t long before the once treasured fort was starting to be an eyesore. I wrote a short ad to place in the classifieds section of our local newspaper offering the fort, free of charge, to anyone who would come and get it. I put the note with the ad on the to-do pile on my desk and there it sat, getting buried deeper and deeper under the pile of more important things to do.

Many months later, I was sitting on my jump seat on the 777, across from my friend Gail, chatting with her during a lull in our business class service. She told me that our friend Susan was looking for a wooden swing set for her grandson. “They’re so expensive, you know, and Susan doesn’t have a lot of money to spend on one right now,” Gail had said. For a few seconds I was speechless.

“Gail, you’re not going to believe this.” I answered. “I’ve got a cedar swing set that I will give to Susan if she’ll just come and get it. I wrote an ad to put in the newspaper months ago and never got around to sending it in. I don’t even know why I procrastinated on it. This is incredible. This is wonderful. This was meant to be!”

What goes around. . .

“That’s great that you’ll give it to Susan, but why is this so exciting to you?” Gail wanted to know.

“Because Susan is the reason Robert got the fort in the first place.” I explained the story of the signal lantern and how Susan’s gift had prompted Jim into buying and building the fort for Robert. “The fort she helped Robert get will come back to her and be her grandson’s fort now. It’s like the circle of life or something.”

Not too long afterward, Susan and Gail came over to the house, disassembled the dry old wooden swing set, loaded it in Gail’s van, and took it to Susan’s house. Susan refurbished, refinished and reassembled the fort, and I’m told it looked as good as new again. The old swing set had a new home and another boy had a fort in which to defend the galaxy against pirates, monsters, aliens, and other assorted bad guys.

I love it when things like this happen. It reassures me that good generates more good and the universe is in order. Was it a magic lantern? Maybe. . .but not likely. The magic is in the love we have for our children and grandchildren and the friendship we share with each other.

Donna
PS: Happy Birthday, Susan!