Wrapped in love -- and cars -- a Christmas tree that honors a mom's promise to her late son

Heidi Stevens, Tribune News Service on Dec 11, 2025

Published in Women

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Chris Wilcek loved big and was loved big.

He was the friend you’d call when you needed something. He was the employee who had a smile for everyone. When he was younger, he was the kid who would sit on his neighbor’s front stoop and talk for hours, never mind the decades that separated them. He was a proud big brother and a tender-hearted son.

“He was one of the kindest, most loyal souls, with a passion for cars and a deep love for his family,” his friend Angela wrote on Facebook. “He was a proud mama’s boy, and the love between them was something rare and beautiful.”

His mama is Samantha Wilcek. She was 21 when Chris was born, and she raised him on her own. He was born on Valentine's Day, and she couldn't imagine a better gift.

On July 17, Chris died of a heart attack, the result of a rare genetic condition that went undetected. He was 21 years old.

“We had dinner together that night,” Wilcek told me. “It was his day off. He ate, he put his plate in the sink, and 40 minutes later I went in his room to ask if he wanted some key lime pie.”

She found him unresponsive. She tried CPR, but it was too late.

“It kills me now because as a parent you know your kids always need you,” she said. “Now he’s so far away from me and I know he still needs me.”

Christmas was his favorite.

“He’d start making his Christmas list in August,” Wilcek said. “He’d ask me, ‘What’s my budget this year, Mom?’”

So when the holidays approached, Wilcek couldn’t imagine decorating. Joy felt impossible to conjure and a little phony to perform. Her daughter, a sophomore in high school, would understand.

But then Wilcek remembered a promise she made to Chris after last Christmas. She had decorated their tree in a Candyland theme and he teased her that next year he wanted something manlier. They settled on a car theme — a nod to another great love of his life.

Chris worked at a Honda dealership and spent all his extra money tricking out his own 2024 Honda Civic. He and his friends spent most weekends gathering in parking lots and other open spaces for car shows.

“They pop open their hoods and open their doors and show off their work,” she said. “Most of them work in dealerships. They’re good kids. They’re the most respectful kids. No one is calling the authorities on them.”

When Chris was 5, he and his grandpa built a go-kart together and Chris drove it anywhere he was allowed.

“He always loved cars,” Wilcek said. “Loud mufflers, garbage trucks, anything cars. From the time he was little.”

A few weeks ago, she decided to go ahead with the car-themed Christmas tree. She messaged his carhead friends and asked if they wanted to donate Hot Wheels cars and write messages or sign their names on the bottoms of the cars.

They did. Of course they did.

She started hanging the cars on her tree.

She found a checkered racing flag tree skirt on Amazon.

She found a little stop light that flashes red and green and fixed that to the top of the tree as a star.

She took out Chris’ Hot Wheels from when he was little, hot-glued them to a bright orange Hot Wheels track and wrapped it around the tree as garland.

She posted about the tree on her Facebook and Instagram pages and cars kept pouring in.

“I have people I haven’t seen in 10 years from past jobs literally sending me Hot Wheels through the mail,” Wilcek said.

She works in the cafeteria at Schurz High School on Chicago’s Northwest Side. The other day at work, one of the security guards handed her a 5-pack of Hot Wheels.

“It made me cry in the lunchroom,” she said. “In front of everybody.”

The weekend before Christmas, she’s going to host Chris’ buddies for a tree lighting ceremony.

“I almost feel like his friends hurt as much as I do,” she said. “I”m trying to be there for them because it kind of gives me a little bit of warmth.”

She decided to go ahead and buy Chris the new set of tail lights for his Civic that she wanted to give him for Christmas. She’ll ask one of his friends to install them.

“They’re always checking on me,” she said. “It kills me he’s not here to see how truly loved he was by so, so many people.”

She pictures him, she said, watching this all unfold with his hands on his chin, smiling, the way he always used to sit. She pictures him with her mom, who died in 2021.

“He made a big impact on the world in a short amount of time,” she said. “There’s a hole in my heart. In a lot of hearts. A lot of people are lost without him.”

Maybe the tree lights a little path forward. Maybe the tree, so often a place to stash presents, is the gift this year.

Maybe the tree reminds his mom that when she was given the gift of Chris, she didn’t squander a moment. She cherished and grew him into a guy who touched more hearts and lives than she even imagined.

All those cars prove as much.