Lauren Hakala

Once upon a time (because every good story starts this way) a man moved with his young family to an old farmhouse.  He owned his own business and occasionally drove a box truck back and forth to work.  His business was a party business, delivering tables, chairs and party paraphernalia. His young family worked hard, he owned his own business, and his wife, in early education, held a couple of jobs to make ends meet.  His young son attended the child care where his wife worked.  He noticed his son was very fascinated with the big truck.  Those box trucks were larger than life to him.  His son would ask to sit in the seat of his big truck, they would talk about special deliveries and explore the back now and then.  When he did open the back of the truck and it was filled to the brim with party supplies it was impressive.  His little two year old son was on the move, loved to build with his blocks and wore tools in his tool belt like his dad when he was working around the house.  An old farmhouse needed a great deal of maintenance. In the garage was his workbench.  One day in early autumn the man hatched an idea, knowing that his son was so fascinated with his box truck, to begin to alter one of his son’s wooden vehicles into a box truck.  This young family was so busy working and living that stealing time away to go to the workbench was what he and his son did together.  The son watched his dad nail, sand and paint the back end of his tuck adding the big box to it.  He would watch, help a bit and play about as the box truck became a real plaything, something they did together.  Then the day came when the truck was finished, well before Christmas. The truck was easily handed over and the play began.  They played together building and driving blocks and imaginary party equipment all over their “block towns”.  The truck became a fixture in his young son’s play. The truck was parked under the tree, ready for work, especially on Christmas Day.  He was so proud to watch his son “special deliver” all his blocks all over the house, long after their play together had ended.  It was meaningful in a way that when it was time to pack up the play items for storage, the box truck remained part of the keepsake collection, far outlasting anything else.  Most of the blocks are long gone, except a few that fit into the back of that box truck waiting for more special deliveries.