My Proudest Moment

Each year before Christmastime my parents helped my sister and I organize our toys into two piles: keep and give away. It took us an entire afternoon to find each piece to each puzzle. Each card to each game. Each outfit for each baby doll.
A truck driver from my dad's borrow pit would come and pick them up, beaming from ear to ear. We helped give another child Christmas. And it made us feel good.
I tried to find time to sort Juni's toys for weeks to no avail. Life just got in the way. So the day before Christmas Eve, I found myself with a few extra hours to kill. I told Juni the plan, and tempted him with an early Christmas package to tear open. The deal was on.
Three hours later, Juni had boxes upon boxes of toys. I'd venture to guess he decided to give away one-third of his toys. We made signs, and drug them all to the end of the driveway. I felt bad that I didn't have time to take them by the CHKD thrift store, but I figured they wouldn't make it to the shelves in time for Santa.
Juni began to pick his present, and we heard the dog barking. Someone was at the end of the driveway. Juni dropped his gift and darted to the window.
"Mommy! This is going to be the best day eber (ever)!"
"Why, Juni? Because you get a present early?"
"No, Mommy. Because another boy will get my toys on Christmas and play with them and love them."

 I hear parents say they take pride in their children every day. And of course I am always proud of my son. But I can honestly say I've never felt the pride that entered my heart that day. It was like the Grinch...my heart grew 10 sizes.