Merry Christmas!
I think this Christmas was my favorite Christmas of all time! It was the Christmas of no expectation. It was the Christmas of gratitude.
We told our kids in November that our upcoming Disneyland trip would be their Christmas present from us. (In November, we took a family trip to California and spent 10 days in various activities.) We encouraged them to avoid thinking about receiving, but rather what they could give each other. On Christmas morning the first thing Jacob said was "Hailey, please open my gift!! Please open my gift!" He didn't even notice that Santa had left him a few toys. He only cared about what he was giving to his sister's. The girl's were the exact same way. Each of them couldn't contain their excitement over what they were giving to their siblings.
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Although we didn't purchase Christmas, Santa still came through with a ginormous puppy for Amber. Amber has a fetish with puppies. Her favorite toy from infancy was a stuffed puppy, which still graces her bed with its presence. She has wanted a larger version for quite some time, and Santa came through with her wish. |
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Jake opening his gift from Amber |
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Gratitude |
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Jacob opening his gift from Hailey. (Jacob had lost his CTR ring, and Hailey had bought him a new one.) |
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When Jacob saw this watch, he was positive that it was perfect for Amber. When he found it, he had already been shopping for quite some time--it was as if he knew what he wanted and he just needed to find it. |
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Hailey gave Amber a Cinderella necklace. It was something that Amber wanted while in Disneyland, but chose to save her money for buying her sibling's gifts. |
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She was thrilled beyond words. |
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Hailey has wanted a BYU t-shirt for quite a while, and Amber capitalized on that knowledge! |
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Somehow Jacob had taken note of Hailey saying she wanted a wallet. I didn't even help Jacob with idea's for Hailey's present. Right from the start he knew exactly what he wanted to give her.
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We always speak of Christmas as being a season for giving. This year we experienced a new level of giving. I'm definitely not against the tradition of purchasing and/or making gifts for one another. I just wish there was a way to teach my children to
not focus on what they think they will be receiving. I think we succeeded this year, because there was no expectation of receiving. Our focus was on what we could give for each other, and for our community.
At the beginning of the school year, Hailey discovered a secret about our Christmas traditions through the carelessness of a teacher. When she told me of her disappointment, I promised her that because she would be giving--it would be even more magical for her. After this declaration, I was determined to make this Christmas every bit as magical as Christmas's past. We continued our regular Christmas traditions (12 Days of Christmas, Christmas for a family in need, and "Christ-centered Christmas devotionals"). We also added a "Random Acts of Kindness" tradition. I started the Random Acts of Kindness, because I was inspired by the idea, and because I thought it would be a good way to help Hailey's beliefs in the magic of Christmas. I had read a story about Santa Claus, and I decided to make the story and the "RAofK" a part of a one on one date with Hailey. For our date, we read the story called, "No Santa Claus?", and then we did exactly as if we were a part of the story--we purchased a gift for another girl in Hailey's school who needed a boost. We searched forever for the perfect gift. Hailey felt that it needed to be just right, and she was positive that she would know what that was once she saw it. She finally decided on a watch, and then we secretly left the gift on her doorstep while hiding in her bushes. Our hearts pounded as we watched the young lady receive her gift--it was a magical moment for Hailey as we hid in the bushes. The following day Hailey saw the girl with the watch on her wrist. It was an exciting experience!
After Christmas was over, I wrote a letter to Hailey, within one of my favorite children's book, to remind her of the magic of Christmas. The book is titled, "I believe in Santa Claus". Here is what I wrote to Hailey:
Dearest Hailey,
This was a big year for you. Several months ago you were concerned that Christmas wouldn't be as magical--as exciting. Now that Christmas has passed, I hope your opinion has changed. I hope that the true spirit of Christmas has brightened your memories, enlarged your soul, and I hope that you have come alive with the Spirit of Giving! I hope this will be a Christmas to remember. I hope you will always remember this Christmas as a Christmas of giving. I hope you remember the little girl who needed a doll house, the little boy who needed a remote control car, and the daddy searching his yard for the benefactors. I hope you remember the 12 Days of Christmas, and the joy it brought the _______Family. I hope you remember our RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS--sidewalk chalk and Andrea's watch. I hope that through these experiences you will know that Santa Claus is alive and well for his symbol pints us to the true meaning of Christmas. For when we serve and love others, we are following the example of the Savior and we are celebrating His birth, His life, His example--the reason for the Season! Merry Christmas! Love, Mom
Here is the story we read on our one-on-one date:
I remember my
first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing
across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb:
"There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know
that!"
My Grandma was not
the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would
be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the
truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous"
cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had
to be true. Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I
told her everything.
She was ready for
me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted . . . "Ridiculous! Don't
believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad
plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go
where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous
cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one
store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked
through it's doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those
days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone
who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked
out of Kerby's.
I was only nine
years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for
anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people
scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood
there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who
on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends,
my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.
I was just about
thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad
breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-4
class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out
to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the
teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have
a cough; he had no good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement.
I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a
hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a
Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly,
as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly.
"It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how
Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put
the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening,
Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag
fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and wrote, "To
Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on
secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house,
explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's
helpers.
Grandma parked
down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in
the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right,
Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath,
dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his
doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited
breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and
there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent
shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized
that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they
were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the
Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.