Every Christmas Eve since I can remember, my mom’s side of the family- The Sullivan clan-has gathered together to celebrate the birth of the Savior. It is a tradition with deep abiding roots, steeped in love, passion, and commitment from the very heart of my late grandparents: Joe and Clara Sullivan. My mom is one of 9 kids; I’m one of 20 grandkids and yet my ‘Mema’ and I were very, very close until her death in 1994. She was not a woman of great wealth by the world’s standards, but she was incredibly rich. And we as her family are incredibly rich. That said, in her will, she asked that our family continue the time honored tradition of meeting together on Christmas Eve. So, of course, we have.
After Mema’s death, my cousin Russ took over her gift giving. Every year, he has provided gifts for all the children in our family. Russ himself is a gift. He is a year younger than I am, has an accounting degree, a law degree and holds the prestigious job of staff director for the Senate Finance Committee in Washington, D.C. But more than his degrees and titles and prestige, Russ is a servant and the people he serves are teenagers in foster care. For years, he has mentored, fostered, adopted, provided for and educated boys who have no one else. And for years, he has done so with humility and grace.
Every year, Russ loads two white rented vans with young men. They drive non-stop from Washington DC to Little Rock to attend the Sullivan family Christmas Eve festivities and to spend Christmas with Russ’ family. This year 19 young men came. One of my uncles asked the 95 of us, (yes 95!) , who were there to introduce ourselves and tell who we ‘belonged’ to. One by one from different parts of the room and at different times these young men introduced themselves; each one gave their name, some interesting fact about themselves like “I’m the one with the best hair”, or “I’m the smartest, or most handsome, or funniest”, but at the end of the monologue they each ended with this little phrase that rocked my world….”and I’m Russ’s Son”.
There it is. That’s what makes Russ rich. He selflessly gives himself away to those who are vulnerable, hurting and hopeless unless he steps in. And following in the Sullivan family tradition, what an incredible heritage to be ‘Russ’s Son’!
Oh, Christie, that is so beautiful that the young men would so powerfully identify themselves as your brother’s son. May all children be so fortunate to have someone who loves them and is willing to drive half way across the country to have them take part of a wonderful family tradition. Thanks for sharing….