Great-uncle Willy carried magic in his pocket. The cotton-haired senior didn’t visit often, but each time he did, he tricked us. My sister and I adored him for that, and still remember his generous spirit.
My memory of Sunday afternoons with Uncle Willy linger, though decades have vanished between the idyllic years of childhood innocence and the inevitable onset of adult cynicism. But I recall something even more enchanting than the bits of strings, coins and handkerchiefs made magical by his sleight of hand. Great-uncle seemed to enjoy spending time in the company of children. If Uncle Willy cast any spell at all, I’d call it love.
Those memories rushed back on another Sunday afternoon when my brother-in-law, Bruce, visiting from two provinces over, made magic too. Four grandbeans sat around the kitchen table as their own Great-uncle (who’d practiced for hours) performed string tricks and puzzled them with a penny that stuck to a magnet – for him, but not for them.
“Why do you think that’s happening?” he asked, all innocent. They shook their heads, wrinkled their brows and kept trying. Round and round the table went the penny.
“I think,” said I, “it’s all in the way you hold your tongue. Try sticking it in the cheek.” Four little tongues pushed out four little cheeks, but the penny still didn’t cling to the magnet. Finally, the magician revealed his secret. He’d been using two pennies.
The children inspected them carefully, and looked up even more puzzled. The pennies appeared identical, even to the year. But only one stuck to the magnet. “Why do you suppose one is magnetic, but not the other?” Bruce asked.
“Because one’s fake!” someone shouted. Tabatha thought longer. “They must be different materials,” she said.
Bingo. Apparently, not all pennies were created equal, not even those minted in the same years. Depending on the price of metal at batch time, the Royal Canadian Mint minted some pennies with varying amounts of steel and zinc, making some magnetic, some not.
“In the Bible,” their magician uncle explained. “God chose a shepherd boy, David, as a king. Not for his good looks, but for something only God could see.” The children listened closely. “David had a very special heart that made him different from others. Just like these pennies. Even though they look the same, they’re very different.”
I thought of how scripture calls him “a man after God’s own heart”. Of Psalm 51, David’s plea of repentance. And I thought of my own heart; of how often it needs adjusting, too.
Each child went home with their own set of Canadian pennies – one magnetic, one not, as a special reminder of the afternoon and a vivid lesson of life and faith, that no matter how people look, it’s what’s inside that matters – and God sees that.
But they also took something equally fine home with them. The memory of a gentle great-uncle who made time for children. A memory that, like my own, will last a lifetime.
