Daniel the Builder

Daniel finished his latest Lego project this morning. It is a Tie interceptor (one of the fighters from Star Wars), about a foot by foot and a half, with over 700 parts. Don, his godfather, had sent it to him for Christmas; however, Tab had held it back until he'd finished some of his other projects. The kit is designed for ages 14 and up, but 7-year-old Daniel built it completely by himself in the space of a few afternoons this week.

It is a joy to see him so absorbed in a project. Another Christmas present he enjoyed this year was a K'nex kit, with which he built a movable crane. The structure is five feet high--Daniel had to stand on a chair when he assembled the top piece-and has a four foot long boom. The crane has motor attached to a remote control, which Daniel can use to move the boom, lower a basket on a string, pick up a ball in the basket, lift it up, swing it around, and then drop it down through the structure, a kind of Rube Goldberg effect. Like the Lego Tie fighter, Daniel built the K'nex crane completely by himself, even though it, too, is designed for a significantly older kid (10 and up, according to the box). He started building the crane the day after Christmas and spent several of his vacation days completely absorbed in the task. I'd have to call him down for his meals, which he would bolt, anxious to get back to his project.

I called my mother-in-law today to tell her about Daniel. She was pleased to hear about it, but mostly she wanted to talk about the Inauguration. "I'm just so thrilled," she gloated. "You should let the kids watch it." I wanted to tell her we were trying to forget about it, but instead passed the phone over to Tab.

I told Daniel we'll call Poppy in Maine later to tell him about the Tie fighter. Daniel has clearly inherited his ability to put things together from my father, and Poppy loves to hear of Daniel's latest accomplishments. I've often thought that in Daniel we may see what Dad might have been--if he'd grown up in a home that stressed education, if he'd been encouraged and supported, if he'd learned the value of finishing what he started.

The other day I was combing Daniel's flyaway blond hair. A stubborn wave over his eye reminded me of Hermey the Elf in the Christmas special, "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

"You look like Hermey, Daniel. Do you want to be dentist, too, just like him?" I joked.

"No, I want to be an engineer," he said.

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