The time is flying and there is so much I want to get done before Christmas. I want to sew stockings for the twins, make a few gifts, watch all the holiday movies, bake cookies, walk Christmas Tree Lane, make a gingerbread house, and I'm wondering if ANY of it will get done. I love the traditions of the holidays but with our life the way it is right now I've got to let some go-we can't do everything, we'll be lucky to do anything. The most interesting thing our elf will do this year is ride the camel in our nativity and that's good enough for me. I still don't get why some elves make messes and pull pranks. I have enough messes and misbehavior around here-WHY would I add to it?!
When Gage was four years old I thought, "This will be last year this kid believes in Santa" and I really thought it would be true. He asked question.....after question.....after question. How does he visit all those houses? How can he be at every mall? How come every Santa I see looks different? Why would he wear a fake beard? It just went on and on. But the next year, even when our elf (Builder) arrived with a TAG on his bottom, Gage still believed. Last year, since all the other kids in kindergarten believed-so did Gage. He did tell me that one kid (to remain anonymous) told him that there was no Santa. It was the kid that got sent to the principal at least once a week. Easy explanation-obviously he's just on the naughty list. Now Gage is seven, and as far as I know-we still have a believer on our hands.......
The year that I was seven is one I remember more clearly than others. I don't have a great memory of my childhood but the year I was seven stands out.
My parents divorced shortly before my seventh birthday. So the Christmas I was seven we were living (when we were with my mom) at my Grandma Jan's. Christmas morning came and everyone was opening gifts. I remember noticing that Amy and Josh both got something.....notable. Okay, I don't know about notable-let's say decent-and I did not. My stomach hurt.....tons of questions were swirling around in my head and I was OVERWHELMED with emotion. I cried. My mom (and later step-dad) saw that I was upset and brought out the BIG surprise from Santa-a new bike. I cried some more. My parents assured me that Santa brought me this wonderful bicycle and that I must have been a good girl, everything was okay........
But it wasn't. Because what I NEVER, in the 25 years that have passed, told my mother-is that I already knew there was no Santa. So when I thought I hadn't received a gift I wasn't wondering why Santa didn't deliver-I was asking myself......Is my mom mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something I shouldn't have? Was there not enough money? Will we ever have enough money? Will we be okay? Am I going to be okay? I was trying to keep it together.....I didn't want to seem greedy or unappreciative of what I did receive but my stomach hurt, I got a giant lump in my throat and the tears poured down........
It was just a bad year. My parents had been in turmoil over custody and money and all of the ugliness that comes with divorce. I had probably seen and heard more than I should have. That year was the beginning of something new and though it didn't start out great, every year things got better.
The good news is when I think about Christmas and my childhood-that year isn't even close to first thing that comes to mind. Riding on a trailer with hay bales singing Christmas carols with the Church of Christ, Uncle Wes dressed as Santa at my grandparents for Christmas Eve, Lip Smackers in my stocking, circling my wishes in the JCPenney catalog, my mother reading How the Grinch Stole Christmas, making cutout Christmas cookies, painting ornaments, picking out the perfect tree, trimming the tree, helping Steve get Griswold with the lights, that movie-Christmas Vacation, the noise, noise, noise of the Darnell Christmas Eve, those are the kinds of things I think about.
There's a famous quote by Maya Angelou, "People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel." That's how I want to approach Christmas.......the kids will (hopefully) forget what gifts they were given.....they will forget what they "wished for" from Santa......but they will never forget the way they felt.
I don't remember a single gift I got as a kid aside from that bike. Almost everything else.....everything GOOD I remember about the holidays-was something I did. I hope my children have that same experience. I hope they don't remember their gifts....and I try not to spend my energy on that......because that isn't what matters for our family. I hope they remember our efforts to find the perfect tree. I hope they never forget the feelings they experienced listening to the sounds of Christmas Eve at Uncle Jeff and Auntie Janet's, or the excitement and anticipation of opening gifts......as opposed to the gifts themselves. I hope they remember the time spent baking cookies with me, and the drama of making sure the lights on the tree were spaced out just right. I hope they remember sharing popcorn and laughing together as we watched Christmas Vacation. I hope they recall setting out the nativity and talking about the birth of Christ, our Savior. I hope they remember the feeling of choosing just the right gift-for someone else. I hope they remember the blessing of an abundant family to share holidays with. Because......
"Seeing is believing, but sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can't see" -The Polar Express
The bell still rings for me and I hope it always does for them (and you) too......
Love.
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