Henry turned 9 on Wednesday and he got a bit of birthday money from his grandparents. I imagine it feels quite wonderful when you’re 9 years old, holding that cash and imagining the possibilities.
Henry loves to play basketball and he spends time most days shooting hoops outside my classroom. One of the teachers at school gave him a basketball for his birthday. He’d really love to spend his birthday money on a basketball hoop but after checking out the new hoops at the Warehouse and trawling through the second-hand hoops on TradeMe, he quickly realized that he was going to have to come up with a Plan C.
This morning, with his birthday money burning a hole in his pocket, he began a systematic assault on the basketball hoops in our neighbourhood. One by one, he knocked on doors and politely inquired if the basketball hoop over the garage was in use? And if not, could he maybe buy it? Success came with Mike at number 29. Mike’s boys no longer live at home and the hoop sits unused, haven for a clutter of spiders. Twenty dollars and a handshake later, Mike removed the hoop from his garage gable, dusted off the cobwebs and passed it over to Henry.
Dad and James spent the afternoon measuring and hammering as their contribution to Birthday Basketball Plan C.
Then, just as the sun was setting, Henry was able to take his first shots.
The best of days. And Grandma’s gift not even half spent.