I would then sit on the floor, watch "It's A Wonderful Life, sip hot cocoa and wrap the remaining gifts to place under the tree. My FAVORITE part was the arranging of the gifts for the perfect "Wow" moment. I would toss and turn all night with anticipation and excitement. I could hardly wait for 7:00 a.m. to roll around so we could start tearing into gifts. The kids knew that Christmas-present-unwrapping began at 7:00. Oh yes, they got up much earlier than 7:00. I would wait for their exclamation of glee. "Santa came!" and the shaking of the presents to start. I would hunker down under the covers and grin. I loved their excitement.
My kids are much much older now and starting families and traditions all their own. Gift giving is more difficult now that they are self sufficient and can buy whatever they want and need.
In the past, Mark's mantra has been "Christmas is such a financial burden." I would get so mad! "Don't say that! I love Christmas!" Tables turned and I found myself the other day saying out loud to Mark, "I hate Christmas."
I expected this whole conversation about the evils of Christmas. The financial burden. The commercialization. The lack of spirit. Blah. Blah. Blah. Oh, I had all the complaints lined up and ready to spew from my lips.
Then Mark said, "That breaks my heart that you said that." I was astounded. Let me tell you, there aren't many moments in my life that I am without words, but that statement left me speechless. I didn't say a word and acted like I hadn't said such a blatantly ugly statement.
I instantly began evaluating myself. Why do I hate it this year? Is it really THAT BAD?
I watched the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. Frosty the Snowman. Rudolph. Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. I watched every show that I loved as a kid trying to wrap my brain around what it is that I'm missing this year.
Then the other night the doorbell rang. I had taken a hot bath to warm my bones and decided "Why not" and threw on my jammies. I was IRRITATED that Mark was in the shop and I had to be the one to answer the door. I flung it open, all the while, wondering who the crap was at my house that late (it was only 6:00 p.m.) and why they rang the doorbell. Nobody ever rings my doorbell. They just walk in. Don't they know that?
In front of me stood a smattering of youth from my neighborhood. I was handed a blanket and a mug with hot cocoa in it and they began singing "Jingle Bell Rock". They won't be awarded ANY trophies for their musical ability. However, it was the mostest bestest song that I have heard all year.
The message was huge. For standing in the cold, just doing what they were "told" to do, muttering some Christmas tune, was the Christmas spirit.
I squealed in delight and clapped ferociously. I shut the door and didn't share it with anyone. Mark will "hear" about it in this blog with the rest of you.
I will remember the joy of THAT MOMENT. I will lock away the cold air, the coats they wore, my jammies, the twinkling lights across the street, the color of the mug and the blankie folded in my hands. It was MY moment and for some strange reason I felt that sharing it out loud would somehow diminish the impact.
I watched "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" (the cartoon). I know you've seen the movie and quite possibly have seen little blocks of wood embellished with the quote from Dr. Seuss. You might even struggle with Christmas and finances and commercialism and the whole meaning behind it like I do. But, you know what? The Grinch was right. When his heart grew three sizes? That was his moment. He got it.
My family is pretty rock solid when it comes to worldly thoughts and needs. They are humble and good and kind and giving. They know the meaning behind the gift-giving well before they see the gift. They get oh-so-excited when we draw names and they think and plan and find the perfect gift for the family member lucky enough to be on the gift-receiving end.
And that makes me proud.
And that, my friends, THAT is what Christmas is all about.
Love. Family. Kindness. Smiles. Simplicity. Giving. Joy.
"It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes, or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. "Maybe Christmas", he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas... perhaps...means a little bit more!" ~Dr. Seuss
Merry Christmas to all.
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