Giving the greatest gift

ESCANABA - By now the commercial side of Christmas has peaked. The remnants of wrapping paper are packed in the garbage. Everyone's personal cache of items given are either stacked near the base of the tree, or are already in use, especially clothing.

If you have a youngster in the house, take the time to see how long their attention to a new toy lasts.

When I was a kid, we used to get one special present to play with and I swear we wouldn't let it out of our sight, especially if others came over to visit. I think I recall trying to take some of them to bed with me.

Otherwise, the practical things received like clothes or helpful items were appreciated but didn't receive the intense focus given the primary gift.

I can still recall my first mess kit that included an aluminum plate, fry pan, cup with fork, and knife and spoon that all hooked together. The ensemble, once packed together, fit into an official carrying case made of olive drab canvas with the official Boy Scout insignia on the front.

I also received my very first knapsack, also made of heavier canvas with an insignia on the top flap. I cherished that piece and continued using it until I literally outgrew it, making is disproportionate in size. By the time it was retired, it resembled (the size of) a postage stamp on my back. The pack lasted a long, long time.

There were a lot of other things I received through the years that were great and remained a big part of my life as a kid. But they weren't the most important gift I was to receive. What I got was a gift that kept giving long after Christmas had passed.

When we were kids, families were tight and we did a lot of things together.

It was the simple experience that made for lasting memories and in my case, many of them involved the outdoors.

My parents took us on picnics or fishing after church on Sundays. We later shared ownership of a camp, which made for year-round pleasure and opportunities outdoors.

We got to snowmobile in the winter and could travel around the area to spots not readily accessible during the warm season. If chilled, we could go inside and sip homemade chili in front of a roaring fireplace.

Come springtime, we'd help the adults burn the tall dried grass from the previous summer, partly to reduce the thick clutter with new growth and to help the ground dry and reduce the bug hatches in the coming summer.

Summertime meant countless hours swimming. I can remember the first set of swim fins and underwater goggles that enabled me to see the bottom of Green Bay for the first time and countless times after.

In the fall, we'd be right in there with the adults gathering firewood and then learning the sacred ritual of setting up the television and cabin to watch the Green Bay Packers play football on Sundays. (I'm not at liberty to divulge the total picture here as it was part of camp and, by rule, stayed there.) In later years, I got to go small game hunting..

My point is that the special gift I received was involvement with my parents, aunts and uncles. I also had a friendship with cousins similar to that experienced with kids I wasn't related to.

It wasn't so much their physical presence but the essence of what they did. We learned how to have fun with simple outdoor projects. They taught us how to be responsible and work toward goals. It meant that anything could become an adventure and a lasting memory.

I would hope you try something like this during the holiday break. Today it's called mentoring and anyone can do it. You just need to take the time to do so.

I've had several opportunities to interview Gov. Granholm when she was in the U.P. On one particular visit included her husband Dan Mulhern, Michigan's First Gentleman. It was a good interview with impromptu commentary by Mr. Mulhern. He later wrote about the experience:

"All of a sudden I found myself on a whole new frequency. I was in Michigan's spectacular Upper Peninsula watching my wife banter with Tim Kobasic on his 'Trails and Tales Outdoors' radio show. As Tim was discussing the great numbers of conservationists who are active volunteers, I bounced forward reflexively like a lower leg struck by a doctor's hammer (the word "volunteer" does that to me now).

"I said to him and his listeners, as I have said to so many others around the state, that "we need to put the men back in mentoring." Wouldn't it be great if some of those conservationists - the bird-lovers and fishermen and hunters and hikers - shared their great times in the outdoors with a boy who could use a mentor? As I was suggesting that mentors did not need to be trained psychologists or social workers to be good mentors, Tim broke in and said, 'No, they just need to be themselves.' What more needed to be said?"

It remains the same, if not more true today than when I had my first experience as a kid.

Give that special gift that keeps on giving. Give yourself to a young mind. It will be a present cherished more than you know.

Merry Christmas!