On Friday, we had a fun dinner party at our house. (That sounds fancier than it really was. Make that a fun each-couple-bring-a-dish meal.) After dessert, we each answered the question, “What gift do you remember from a Christmas past?” Even though some of the stories were sad, I learned some important things by listening to our guests. Almost everyone recounted a gift they received as a child, not as an adult. Their gift memory was quite clear even tho most of us are now fifty years or older. This reminded me that childhood experiences form us. They can build us up or tear us down.
One guest recalled that on his 13th Christmas his step-father gave him a minibike that didn’t run. He was so excited to receive the bike, but his alcoholic step-dad had bought it from a guy in a bar, and it only proved to be a frustration as he spent Christmas Day (and many days following) trying to get it to run. That disappointment drove the hurt of his step-father’s drunkenness even deeper.
Another guest shared that when she was little, she was given a doll by her dad. The rest of us nodded and smiled. But then she said, “It was the only gift I ever got from my dad. The first and last one. I loved that doll so much. Then it was lost in one of many moves with my mom.” Whew. Those two stories made me sad for our friends. So young to experience heartache. But it also reminded me that childhood matters and I must treat children with loving consideration because they are storing up memories which will influence the way they think about life for decades. But I’m happy to report that these two friends’ stories have been redeemed by God to form them into exceptionally generous, caring people. They are very generous with their material possessions and their time to help those around them.
Another guest shared the memory of a special gift from his grandparents who didn’t have the means to buy gifts for their many grandchildren. But one memorable Christmas, the grandparents managed to buy each of their grandsons a small gift- a Roy Rogers flashlight. That flashlight was treasured for years. Right into young adulthood, our friend kept it until his home was broken into and the thieves even took this keepsake from his grandparents. His story went straight to my heart because I don’t feel like I have much to give to our many grandchildren. But it reminded me that the material value of gifts aren’t necessarily what makes a gift valuable. It gave me hope that the small things we give may matter and not to give up just because we can’t give as much as we’d like to.
PS. There’s a rumor that Santa found a Roy Rogers flashlight on e-Bay.
Another guest shared about the Christmas gift her single mother managed to give her in spite of her mother’s personal struggles. This dear friend who grew up with scarcity in both finances and family is now lovingly cared for and does the same for others, always welcoming them into her happy home. God gave her beauty for ashes.
Lest you think there were nothing but sad stories, let me share with you my Christmas gift memory. I was in my senior year of Bible school near downtown Chicago. Finances were especially tight because I hadn’t been able to work the previous summer due to fulfilling my practicum, a volunteer position, necessary for graduation. At the beginning of the school year, I had a “chance” meeting with a certain young man who as a Freshman was making the most of the opportunity to get to know eligible wife candidates. But I had already made plans to further my education at another college and felt disinclined to pursue a serious relationship. But he generously loaned me school money each first day of the month until I could repay him on the third day of the month when my Social Security payment arrived. ( I got a small education stipend as the minor child of my deceased single parent.) Fast forward a few short weeks and there we were discussing spending the rest of our lives together! I went to a relative’s for Thanksgiving break so I could participate in my cousin’s wedding. Apparently, while I was gone soon to be Husband-to-be hatched a plan for a special Christmas present. He began searching the high end jewelry stores near our school, but to no avail. Not one store had the desired gift. Fast forward to Christmas at his parents’ home on the West Coast. I had gone home with him to meet his family. It was time to open presents on Christmas morning and he handed me a small box. I think the air was sucked out of the room by his parents who suspicioned what was in the small package and weren’t too keen on the idea. I innocently opened the little box. There was the tiniest, most exquisitely hand carved pair of cameo earrings. The air returned to the room as I put them on. No, it wasn’t yet the time for an engagement ring, but he wanted to give me something I could never afford to buy myself. He had decided to buy me cameo earrings, but they had to be a certain kind – small and delicate- which turned out to be difficult to find. It was a gift of love. He had spent time and money to make me feel loved. I still have them 25 moves and 48 Christmases later. And I still feel loved.
I know I wouldn’t be telling you this story if it weren’t for the best Christmas gift ever given. The gift that makes us know we are dearly loved by God. He gave us his own dear Son. And his Son gave his own life for us. We didn’t earn it or even deserve it. He was God’s free gift for all who humbly take him. And after our last Christmas, when we make our final move to Heaven, we’ll appreciate that Gift even more because we’ll see him face to face.
Past Christmas Blogs
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