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I knew he would find his way there and back, we had practiced that.
Quarters and pennies, he understood, counted them just as he should.
Confidence prickles could easily be his many dimes and nickels.
Born challenged, adding them was at times grim unless I helped him.

My 22 year-old son had never dared a walk to the shopping square 
without me or someone else who cared, also walking there.
True was his need to try and I truly itched for him to succeed.
If something mean happened to him, I would need the bully to bleed. 

My son was upbeat, his confidence keen, so I didn't dare intervene. 
Praying, I saw him pocket his house key while walking away from me.
I asked God if two, well-tested angels were free to guide his cash spree.
I saw an hour scatter before my son came home all smiles and chatter.

Lifting his arm, he said, ‘Mama, you must see this really cool watch.
I can do it by myself, put it on, take if off, and close the notch - 
if I count to five, I stick it in the right hole every time and stuff.”
Thinking him an absolute joy, I asked if his money had been enough.

My son sat, and just like that, gave both his knees a loud slap.
“Two golden ladies, you see, asked if I would let them pay for me.
They hoped to fill a need by doing a kind Christmas deed.
Can you believe that golden ladies would choose to help me?
They smiled and paused to hug me after I said "Merry Christmas",
then thanked them and told them twice how nice their deed was."

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