A mother's journey and a son's wish

May 12—Chris Grecius was a nice kid — and, his mother will tell you, an absolutely perfect son.

Opened doors and pulled out seats for women. Worked hard in school and asked permission to do things.

Just about made his mom cry by buying her a red rose.

Cursing? Heck no. His favorite expression: "Neat-o!"

And he was rarely grumpy, even after a bloody nose led to a leukemia diagnosis.

His life was fading, but he rallied on May 1, 1980, grinning all day as his wish came true: Friendly Department of Public Safety officers not only delivered a uniform to him, they had him sworn in as an honorary cop.

The next day, Chris died.

His mother buried him, the day before Mother's Day.

Forty-four Mother's Days later, Linda Pauling gets choked up, telling the story of "my little buddy."

Yet, rather than cursing fate, she is grateful that Chris' wish-come-true inspired her to help launch Make-A-Wish. In four decades since, the nonprofit has put smiles on the faces of ailing kids by rallying donations to make their dreams come true.

"It is such a gift from God to be able to give that back and I thank him every single day," Linda said.

"I thank the Lord, you know, because I know little Chris is up there going, 'Neat-o, Mommy!' — because that was his favorite word."

A not so neat-o event last year led to shocked gasps around the country: Late at night on Jan. 3, 2023, a beautiful statue of little Chris at the Make-A-Wish headquarters in Phoenix was — unbelievably enough — stolen.

When she heard what happened to the statue of her son, "my heart was ripped out once again," Linda Pauling said.

"That devastation. The loss. And you wonder: How could somebody do this and for what purpose?"

The answer to her question: drugs.

A week after the theft, Phoenix Police officers arrested Troy Burke for stealing the priceless statue.

The 33-year-old Burke was no stranger to the justice system, with convictions for burglary and drug charges in 2009 and 2011. As part of a plea deal, he admitted to stealing the statue, busting it apart and selling the material at scrap yards for drug money.

Even with a plea deal, the repeat offender was hit hard, as a judge slapped a five-year sentence on Burke.

Many a mother would be ready to strangle the thief.

Linda Pauling is ready to forgive him.

"I have said a couple prayers for this gentleman," she said, "for the Lord to help him to dry out and get straight, to truly make something of himself — because I'm sure his mother would like to be proud of him."

The mother's pain has been eased by a new statue of Chris being unveiled — just in time for Mother's Day.

The statue's original sculptor, Tom White, created a replacement statue for Make-A-Wish using the original mold.

"We are thrilled to welcome Chris home to Make-A-Wish," said Fran Mallace, president and CEO of Make-A-Wish Arizona.

"The statue's return restores a piece of our history and serves as a powerful reminder of our mission."

Mallace praised "the lasting impact Chris' legacy has had on wish children and their families over that last 44 years."

The new statue was unveiled April 30 at the Make-A-Wish house in south Scottsdale at 2901 N 78th St., near Hayden and Thomas roads.

Though it was a painful journey, Linda Pauling feels like her son is back home — returned to the city where he enjoyed playing at peaceful parks, going to school and spending precious family time.

Barely over 1 mile from the Scottsdale home where Linda lives with her husband, Gene Pauling, the new statue location is much closer than the original Phoenix site.

"I'm very thrilled that it's here," said Chris' mom.

She'll be remembering her "perfect boy" this Mother's Day by placing a red rose on the new statue.

Painful, joyous memories

A young, single mother when she lost what she calls a precious gift from God, Linda Pauling is now 73.

Whenever she sees a police officer or highway patrolman in his early 50s, one thought always comes to mind, as it has over the years: That could be my boy.

"It always crosses my mind," Chris' mom said. "It really does. You know, it's just there.

"It will never go away — and I don't want it to."

Mother's Day invariably brings back the whirlwind May of 1980, the wild joy and almost unbearable sorrow.

"Mother's Day has a kind of a dual meaning to me — it truly does," said the mother of Chris and mother of Make-A-Wish.

"It's a wonderful memory of a little boy's dream coming true. And the memory of having to bury him."

The burial was the culmination of three desperate years for Linda Pauling; after getting the diagnosis of incurable cancer, she tried to cram a lifetime into months, with the clock of fate ticking and ticking.

"We would go out to dinner or a little brunch smorgasbord and probably then to a movie," Chris' mom recalled. "It was a wonderful time. I cherish the seven years I had with him — and tried very hard to cherish those last three years and always wanting one more day with him."

The late '70s and first months of 1980 was a time of constant motion for her and Chris.

"We just had a ball," Linda Pauling said, fighting to control her emotions.

"Chris was my little buddy."