The Woodcarver

Joe Bruno and his wife Maria were just moving into the quiet neighborhood in Santa Fe. A few days earlier, Matt Dawkins their next-door neighbor, noticed a couple of workers renovating and expanding a backyard shed. Matt thought Joe and his wife looked to be in their seventies and probably moved to New Mexico to enjoy the great weather and scenery in their retirement years. Matt and his wife Jane had waved to the couple as the movers were carrying furniture into the house on a sunny Saturday. They planned to go over and welcome them to the neighborhood once the movers were gone. Matt and Jane moved to Santa Fe from Brooklyn, New York when Matt got an offer from a law firm. He and Jane, a teacher, thought it would be an adventure and a way to sample a different lifestyle. Their kids eight-year-old Patrick, and their daughter, five-year-old Taylor were disappointed the former owners moved. They had two kids about Patrick’s and Taylor’s ages who they played with all the time.

As Patrick watched Joe supervise the movers he said, “Dad, that man looks old. I don’t see any kids. He looks like Grandpa.”

Matt smiled, “No Patrick, I don’t think they have kids your age, but I’m sure they’re nice people. Maybe they have grandkids who will come to visit.”

Patrick was skeptical.

“I bet they won’t have their own scooters.”

Matt did notice several wooden crates that the movers took back to the shed. It had been enlarged. There was new siding, a new roof and electricity was installed. Joe followed them and Matt could hear him telling the movers to be careful with the crates.

Later in the afternoon when the movers were gone, Matt, Jane, and the kids went over to say hello. Jane made a chicken pot pie, and some cookies. They rang the bell.

As Joe opened the door, Matt said, “Hi, we’re your next-door neighbors. We hope we’re not intruding. We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m Matt Dawkins. This is my wife Jane, and this is Patrick and Taylor.”

Jane held out the dinner and cookies and said, “We thought you might be too busy to think about dinner.

Joe was impressed.

“This is great. I’m Joe Bruno. Maria, come out here. The neighbors are here, and they even brought us dinner. Thanks, so much.”

Maria came out of the kitchen.

“Oh, come in. This is so nice of you.”

There were boxes spread out in the living room and piled on the kitchen table.

Jane said, “We don’t want to stay. We know you’re busy.”

Matt asked, “Where are you from, Joe?”

“We’re from Philadelphia. We couldn’t take the winters anymore.”

Matt said, “It was great meeting you, and again, if there’s anything we can do, just let us know.”

As they went out the door, Jane noticed the picture of a little boy on the mantle.

*****

The Dawkins didn’t see much of the Brunos over the next several weeks. They did notice Joe spent most days in the backyard shed that had been turned into a workshop. There were pieces of lumber and even small tree trunks neatly stacked next to it. Patrick could see Joe through the small window when he came home from school. His curiosity finally got the best of him one day and he walked over the workshop. He knew his mother wouldn’t want him bothering Joe. He tried to peek in the window without being noticed, but Joe looked up and saw him. Patrick took a step back and thought Joe might get angry. He started to turn to go back home when Joe opened the door.

“It’s Patrick, right?”

Joe could be a little imposing to a kid. He was only about 5’9” but he was stocky with muscular forearms. He had a broad face framed with silver rimmed glasses that matched his white hair. His voice was deep. Patrick felt a little intimidated and was regretting his decision to venture into Joe’s yard. Joe held the door open.

“Would you like to come in?

Patrick decided to step inside. It was not what he expected. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. There were shelves lining the three walls from about a foot above the floor to a foot below the ceiling. There were dozens of hand carved wooden figures. Children, animals, birds, football and baseball players, trains, boats, and small planes.  Works in progress were scattered on the work bench in the center of the shop.  Carving tools were scattered on the top of the bench, knives, chisels, files, and an electric table saw. Wood and more tools were stored on a shelf under the work bench. Patrick could smell the wood. His eyes were popping.

“Wow, did you make all these things? Is this what you do all day?”

Joe smiled, “Well, it’s my hobby. I do give some away to people I like. Would you like to pick one out?”

Patrick scanned the shelves. It was almost too much to take in. He stopped at the lion with the full mane and its mouth open in a roar.

“Could I have the lion?” he asked.

Joe took it off the middle shelf and handed it to Patrick.

“It’s yours. How about your sister?”

Patrick said, “She likes dogs. We have a Golden Retriever named Lucky.”

Joe reached to the top shelf and took down a figure of a little girl petting her dog.

“Maybe she would like this one,” he said handing it to Patrick.

“Yeah, the dog even looks like Lucky.”

Patrick didn’t want to over-stay his welcome.

“Thanks Mr. Bruno. My Mom may be looking for me.”

Joe stood at the door.

“Okay, tell your parents I said hello, and come over anytime.”

Patrick noticed the picture of the little boy on the shelf behind Joe’s head. It was the same boy Jane saw on the Bruno’s mantle.

Patrick rushed in the back door to the kitchen where Jane was making dinner.

“Mom look what Mr. Bruno gave me. You should see inside his workshop. There are so many wood statues all over the walls. He let me pick out the lion and he gave me this girl and the dog for Taylor.”

Jane was a little concerned.

“Were you over there bothering Mr. Bruno? You should’ve asked first before going over to his backyard.”

Patrick tried to explain.

“I was just looking in a window when he saw me and asked me to look inside his workshop. He was really friendly.”

Jane didn’t want to overreact.

“Okay, but next time you ask me about going over there and disturbing Mr. Bruno.”

Matt came home a short time later and Patrick told him all about his visit with Joe Bruno over dinner.

“Dad, there were wood statues all over the walls.”

Matt said, “That was very nice of Mr. Bruno, but I don’t want you bothering him or accepting any more gifts. One is enough.”

When dinner was over, and the kids went in the family room to watch television, Matt and Jane were cleaning up the dishes.

As he wiped the counter Matt said, “I should go over there and thank Joe for being so nice to Patrick. I haven’t seen much of him since they moved in.”

Jane thought for a second.

“I haven’t seen Maria either. When she returned the dishes, I brought over for dinner, she left them on the front porch with a thank you note. She dropped them off when she knew I’d be at school. Maybe they’re just shy or like to keep to themselves.”

Later Matt saw the light on in Joe’s workshop and walked over to thank him. Like Patrick, Matt was amazed by all the wooden figures.

“Joe this is quite a collection. Do you sell these?”

“Oh, no. It’s just a hobby. I give them away to toy drives, kids in homeless shelters, nursery schools. I try to make them unique. Every kid should have a special toy that no one else has.”

Matt wondered if Joe had children or grandchildren of his own. He then noticed the picture of the little boy on the shelf behind Joe.

“Who’s that little guy? Is he your grandson?”

Joe turned around slightly.

“That’s our son. He died many years ago.”

There was a distinct change in Joe’s expression, a sadness seemed to come over him. Matt immediately regretted asking. He felt as if he was prying.

“Oh, Joe I’m sorry.”

Joe wanted to change the subject.

“Thank you. Listen, tell Patrick he’s welcomed anytime. I’d love the company.”

Matt turned toward the door.

“That’s very nice of you. We just don’t want him to be a bother.”

Joe shook his head, “He’s no bother.”

When Matt returned home, Jane was upstairs getting the kids ready for bed. He went up to read a story. They each had their own room, but they did the bedtime story in Taylor’s room. She had the figure of the little girl with the dog on her nightstand.

“Daddy, doesn’t the dog look like Lucky?”

Matt smiled, “And the girl looks just like you.”

After the story, Matt tucked Taylor in and walked Patrick across the hall to his room.

“Dad, did you see Mr. Bruno’s workshop?”

Matt pulled the covers up on Patrick.

“Yes, I did. It was really a cool collection.”

Patrick asked, “Is it okay if I go over again? Mr. Bruno said I could.”

“Okay, but don’t be a pest and ask Mom before you go over.”

“I will. Good night, Dad.”

Matt bent down and kissed Patrick’s forehead, “Good night, son.”

When Matt came downstairs, Jane was sitting at the kitchen table going over her classes’ test papers.

Matt said, “Our neighbor seems like a nice guy and he’s quite a woodcarver. But I think I made him uncomfortable asking about a picture of a little boy on one of the shelves. I asked if that was his grandson. He suddenly got a sad look on his face and said the boy was his son who had died a long time ago.”

Jane remembered, “I saw a picture of a little boy on their mantle when we went over with the dinner. I thought it was a little strange that the picture was one of the first things they put up in the middle of all the boxes and unpacking. I wonder what happened and if they had any other children.”

Matt said, “Well, I know he has soft spot for kids. He gives all those figures away to toy drives, kids in homeless shelters, and even nursery schools.”

“Really,” Jane was impressed.

“Maybe Santa Claus has moved into the neighborhood.”

*****

Patrick started going over to Joe’s workshop several days a week after school. Joe watched the clock in the late afternoon waiting for him. He’d be disappointed on days Patrick didn’t visit. Joe could see the fascination in Patrick’s eyes as a piece of wood turned into a figure that seemed to have a life of its own and he was always full of questions. He was starting to become an apprentice. Patrick would hand Joe the right tool as he worked on a piece. He even let Patrick sand the finish on some of the figures.

As Christmas drew near, Joe started planning trips to toy drive collection points and homeless shelters. Patrick asked if he could come along and help. Joe called Matt that night.

Joe said, “I’d love to have him come along. He’s a great kid and I would like him to see how such a small gift can bring a little happiness into the lives of those kids.”

Matt thought it would be a good lesson for Patrick.

“What time do you want him to come over tomorrow?”

They agreed on 9 o’clock the next morning.

When Patrick showed up at the workshop the next morning, Joe had started placing the wood figures in the two cartons sitting on the workbench. Patrick helped with the packing. As he went along the shelf, he picked up the figure of a boy in short pants holding a ball. It was next to the picture of the little boy. Joe reached to take it from Patrick.

“No, that one stays here. That’s my son. He died a long time ago.”

Joe looked up at the picture.

Eight-year-old boys always want to know why.

“Was he sick?”

“He was hit by a car.”

“Did he cry?”

“No,” Joe answered not really wanting to say anymore.

“Did you cry?”

Innocence has a way of cutting to the heart.

“Yes, I did, Patrick. Yes, I did.”

Joe picked up some more figures and resumed putting them in the boxes.

“Let’s hurry up. We’ve got to get going.”

Joe carried the boxes out to his SUV, and they were off to a homeless shelter downtown. They pulled up in front of a non-descript building. Joe got out and asked Patrick to hold the door open as he lifted the boxes out of the back of the SUV. A woman greeted them at the counter.

Joe said, “My name is Joe Bruno. I called about dropping off some toys for the children.”

They were led into a room with tables and chairs on one side and cots on the other. There were lots of women and children talking and playing. The kids ranged in age from infants to young teenagers.

When they stopped to put the boxes on a table, a boy about Patrick’s age walked up to him and asked, “Are you staying here?”

Patrick didn’t know what to say.

“No, I’m helping my neighbor bring some toys.”

“What kind of toys?”

The little boy wanted to know.

“They’re made of wood. All kinds of different things.”

Joe asked the woman in charge if it was okay to hand out the figures.

“Do you have enough? We wouldn’t want anyone left out.”

Joe started opening the boxes.

“I think I have plenty, and I have more at home so I could come back.”

The woman agreed and Joe and Patrick started to take the figures out of the boxes and place them on the table. The kids and some of the mothers noticed what was going on and started to come over. Patrick saw Joe’s face light up. He was like a magnet for the kids. He spoke to each child and their mothers about the figures. He told them stories about why he made them and let the kids pick whichever one they wanted. When every kid had a figure, Joe stood for a moment just watching them all. Patrick saw a tear roll down his cheek. He didn’t understand why Joe would be sad.

“Mr. Bruno, why are you crying?”

Joe wiped the tear away.

“Sometimes when you make children happy it can make you cry. It’s hard to explain. Someday, you’ll understand.”

Joe was quiet on the ride home. When he pulled into the driveway, he turned to Patrick.

“Thanks for helping today. Those kids really appreciate it. They’re not as lucky as you. You have a Mom and Dad who love you and take care of you. Every Mom and Dad wants to take care of their kids and make sure they’re safe and happy.”

Patrick didn’t know what to say.

“Thanks, Mr. Bruno.”

Patrick went inside.

“How did it go at the shelter?’ Jane asked.

“The kids really liked the figures. But at the end, Mr. Bruno started to cry a little.”

Jane was surprised.

“Really, why was he crying?”

Patrick said, “I’m not sure, but he said sometimes people cry when they make children happy.”

Jane thought that was odd, but maybe Joe was just emotional over the children’s reaction.

*****

Patrick and Joe drew closer over the ensuing months. Joe became sort of a surrogate grandfather. Patrick went along with Joe on trips to deliver the figures to kids. Maria could see Joe was happier than he had been in years. Patrick gave him hope and companionship. Maria knew Patrick was filling a void in Joe’s life.  Joe even started going to Patrick’s tee ball games. She wanted Jane and Matt to know she was grateful. Maria used to have her own pie baking business. She sold homemade pies to several neighborhood bakeries back in Philadelphia. She baked a blueberry pie and brought it over to Jane.

Maria said, “I just wanted to thank you and Matt for allowing Patrick to spend so much time with Joe.”

Jane waved Maria to come in.

“Oh, this is so nice of you. Of course, Patrick loves going over, and he’s told us Joe even lets him sand down the figures. Please sit down. Can I get you anything?”

“Oh, no. If you have a minute, I’d like to tell you something that will explain a lot.”

Jane sat down.

“Is everything all right?”

“Joe doesn’t know I’m here. He’d be upset if I told him. But his relationship with Patrick has changed his life and I wanted you and Matt to know why. Joe and I had a son, Danny, after we were married a couple of years. I had some difficulty with the delivery, and the doctor said we probably shouldn’t have any more children. Danny was the center on our lives. We were living in a rowhouse in South Philadelphia. Joe had just started his printing business and I was baking pies for a few neighborhood bakeries. It was a summer evening. I was inside baking, and Joe was out on the front stoop with Danny who was five at the time. Joe went next door to help our elderly neighbor carry grocery bags in. Danny was bouncing a little rubber ball. It bounced off his foot and rolled into the street. He took a few steps into the street when a car came around the corner and hit him. The car kept going. I could hear the commotion outside. I ran to the front door. Joe was holding Danny and screaming. I’d never heard anything like it. An ambulance rushed us to the hospital, but it was too late. The police came and searched for months and never found the driver. You can see how it changed everything. Joe was crushed with guilt. It put a great strain on our marriage. His guilt, my anger. It took years of counseling to deal with it. But we both have scars that can never heal. Joe started the woodcarving as an emotional outlet and a way to give something to a child that he couldn’t give to his own son.”

Maria stopped and took a breath. She hadn’t talked about the accident with anyone for years.

Jane held back tears.

“Oh Maria. I’m so sorry. I’m touched that Patrick can bring a little happiness into your lives. You and Joe are very special to him and to us.”

Maria said, “Thank you, Jane. I just wanted you to know. Danny has been a missing piece in our lives. We think about him every day. Patrick has given us a chance to see what that might have felt like.”

Jane could see the pain in Maria’s eyes. She asked herself if she could’ve carried on with life if she had lost a child in a terrifying split second.

“Maria, I’ll share this with Matt. But both of you have overcome so much, and you are having a big impact on Patrick. He talks about Joe all the time and loves the smell of your pies and the sample pieces you give him. I’m so glad you came over. We’ve been wanting to invite you and Joe over for dinner.”

Maria got up to leave.

“Oh, that would be so nice. Of course, I’ll bring the dessert.”

*****

A few months later, it was the day before Patrick’s birthday. He was in the workshop helping Joe put his tools away before he went home.

Joe said, “So, tomorrow’s the big day.”

Patrick was surprised Joe knew it was his birthday.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I have my sources.”

Joe then turned and reached up on the second shelf for the little boy in short pants.

“Here you go Patrick. Happy Birthday. I’d like you to have this little boy.”

Patrick knew this figure was special.

“Thank you, Mr. Bruno. I’ll keep him right on the shelf in my room.”

Joe smiled with a bit melancholy in his voice and said, “That would be the perfect place.”

*****

The two families stayed close for years. Patrick eventually bought his own tools and adopted Joe’s tradition of giving the wood figures away to children. Patrick grew to 6’2” and became an all-state pitcher in high school. Joe never missed a game. By the time Patrick was leaving for college, Joe was in his mid-eighties. He needed heart surgery, but the doctors were concerned he couldn’t tolerate it. When Patrick came home for a visit later in the fall, he went to see Joe.

Maria gave him a hug when she opened the front door.

“It’s so good to see you, Patrick. Joe is so excited you’re home. He’s in the den.”

Patrick was surprised when he walked into the den and saw Joe sitting back in his recliner with a blanket over his lap. He looked much older since Patrick last saw him just a couple of months ago. Joe’s face brightened.

“There he is. How’re you doing college boy? You look good.”

Joe tried to sit forward and shake Patrick’s hand. Patrick crouched down and took the big, weathered hand he watched all those years bring pieces of wood to life. Patrick pulled a chair next to the recliner.

“Mr. Bruno, how are you? How’re you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m doing okay. I’m not moving as fast as I used to. Not carving much anymore. My heart isn’t working great. How about you? How was fall baseball?”

Patrick suddenly remembered that first day ten years ago when he looked through the workshop window, and how amazed he was when Joe invited him inside. Now that he was older, he realized how lucky he was to have met this man who carved toys out of his own grief to bring happiness to little kids. He could see the end was near, and this giant of his childhood was finally going to get a rest from his pain.

“Baseball was great. The team should be a contender for the conference championship in the spring. I’m starting to develop a slider.”

Joe rested his head on the back of the chair.

“I hope I can come see a game, but I get tired pretty quickly.”

Patrick knew the shadow of the lost child had never gone away. He felt grateful and lucky that he was able to fill some of the emptiness in the life of this special man. They spoke for a few more minutes. Patrick could see Joe was starting to fade. He knew time was short. He didn’t want to get emotional. As he got up to leave, he bent over Joe and pulled him slightly forward to give him a hug. Joe reached up and wrapped his arms around Patrick’s broad shoulders and held him.

“You take care of yourself, Mr. Bruno. I’ll be home for Thanksgiving, and we can have some of Mrs. Bruno’s pie together.”

Joe pulled back and looked at Patrick.

“Thanks for stopping in son. I’ll be waiting for you when come home.”

Patrick turned to leave. Joe leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. As Patrick walked back across the yard to his house, he stopped and looked in the workshop window. It looked as it did all those years ago. He wanted to remember it forever just as it was.

A couple of weeks later, Matt called Patrick at school.

“I have some bad news.”

Patrick knew it was coming even before he answered.

“Mr. Bruno passed away last night in his sleep. I’m sorry, Patrick. I know how much he meant to you and to all of us. He was a special guy.”

“Yes Dad. I’ll never forget him.”

“Are you okay, son?”

Patrick sighed, “I will be.”

Patrick walked back to his dorm room. He sat on the edge of his bed lost in memories. When he looked, up he saw the little boy with the ball looking down at him from the shelf.