Is there more to life than this?

 

Christmas Surprise

by Jim Tulloch

I'll admit that as a parent I am a work in progress; I make mistakes - a fact my kids will readily agree with.

This is not new. Dads throughout history made mistakes. I'm sure (but cannot verify this) that Thomas Edison's father once said, "Tom, quit fooling around with those gadgets and fill up this lantern with oil!" And I can picture Isaac Newton's dad saying, "Get up in the tree and pick those apples! You think they're going to fall of by themselves?" The difference between these men and me however is their missteps led to momentous discoveries. Mine get me into trouble. Fortunately my wife makes the occasional faux pas too which diverts attention from my shortcomings and for these precious respites I am truly thankful. But when we blow it together there's no place to hide.

Usually this occurs at Christmas. Try as we might to match our kids' wish list with our budget and practical things they need we strike out with one of four offspring each year. This may seems a good average but when you know the degree of anticipation and expectation at our house you'll understand why there's so much at stake.

My wife is partly to blame. She loves the season so much she starts playing Christmas CDs in October. She owns an extensive collection of Christmas movies and specials on video, which for some reason we start watching Hallowe'en night after the trick-or-treaters have gone. Certain strings of Christmas lights are left up all year - indoors.

By Christmas eve, even after the mellowing effect of re-telling the Christmas story, our house is charged with emotional electricity making it nearly impossible for at least one member of our family, our son TJ, to get to sleep. A few years ago he got out of bed every fifteen minutes between one and five a.m. and asked if he could stay up.

"I can't sleep," he moaned, "I'm too excited." Then he'd trudge back to his room and talk to the ceiling, "It's not fair!" he muttered (loud enough to wake his sisters in the adjacent room). "It's just not fair!" We finally relented and let them get up about five-thirty which has become our standard Christmas wake-up time.

When the kids come downstairs to the family room each has their own spot where they've laid their stocking the night before. Kim stops them at the door, takes an annual mug shot, then lets them run to their cache of goodies. Squeals of delight and laughter fill the room for the next few minutes. But it's in these initial moments of merriment when Kim and I carefully observe their eyes. Invariably there's one child who is still looking around for a gift he or she hoped for but didn't get. One Christmas, by the look on my son's face, you'd have thought the dog died. Actually our dog had died the week before, but this reaction was worse.

"What's wrong TJ?" we asked.

"Nothing." he said glumly.

If his bottom lip were any lower he would have tripped over it.

"Cmon, what's wrong?" we pressed. He paused a moment, looked sullenly at the floor, then blurted, "All I got was clothes."

"You need clothes." We assured him.

"I know...I like them? He conceded, "But...boys don't get clothes, they get toys and games - stuff like that!"

Faced with compelling adolescent logic like my son's, parents resort to age-old speeches handed down from their parents who received them from their parents and so on about the importance of being grateful, the thought behind the gift, etc. And after giving him a stirring example of such a speech we noticed something significant - the same unimpressed response we had as kids when we heard the talk.

I think that's why last Christmas took Kim and I by surprise. The day began as usual at five-thirty a.m., the photo snapped, the kids scurried in to find their gifts, etc. Then something unusual - make that extraordinary - happened. Instead of admiring their new treasures each of them rushed under the tree to grab the presents they had bought for each other.

"TJ, open this one from me." Christine asked excitedly.

"Wow, thanks Christine! Here's one I got you."

"Bonnie, open this one," giggled Karen, one of our 10 year-olds to her twin.

"Okay" bubbled Bonnie with equal delight, "but you have to open yours from me at the same time."

With each gift the excitement escalated. Having very limited funds to work with, the kids had shopped thoughtfully and shrewdly for presents within their price range. As they handed them to the proper recipient their faces beamed with joy. They were having as good a time, even better than the receiver of the gift. Kim and I sat dumbfounded as the kids gathered round us and urged us to open the present they had bought for her and I. The gifts were wonderful but the spirit filling that room was far greater.

Somehow God's love had taken hold of their hearts. They spoke kindly to each other, even hugged one another. For one splendid moment. "Peace on earth, good will to men," reigned. This is the essence of Christmas, I thought, loving, giving: "For God so loved...He gave His only Son." The babe in the manger was the supreme example of this love in action. Jesus gave His life so that we could be reconciled with God - the gift of salvation - by believing in Him. And His greatest joy comes when someone receives His gift.

Later as Kim and I reflected on the day we couldn't help but marvel at this serendipity. Our kids had experienced the joy of giving. If someone hadn't received the gift they wanted we didn't notice. And you know what? Neither did they.

Reprinted with permission from A Christmas Digest.

 

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