The Gift

On Monday I met for coffee with my friends from the Newsletter Mom's group (or the NLMS as we call ourselves now). You may recall this is a group of ladies I became friends with when my girls were in middle school. We would gather in a conference room and label and package the monthly school newsletter. In addition to the newsletter we would share stories and laugh and talk and sometimes cry together. All of these women are wonderful and I am blessed to call each one a friend.

Recently one of the women in our group went to Ecuador on a mission trip. She has gone every year that I can remember and each time comes back with amazing stories of the gifts that she shares with the people there and the joy it brings her. This year she was sharing how amazing it was to see the joy simple things brought to the children. Her mission each year has been to provide a small Christmas to many of the children there. There are usually about three thousand people that receive small gifts that the volunteers pack in their luggage and then package in small bags for the children. My friend shared with us how touched she was to see a small girl pull two colorful markers out of her small bag and with a huge smile hug them to her as if she had been given her life's fondest wish. As we chatted she also shared how her church had packaged up shoe boxes filled with small items that were sent out through the Shoebox Project and how these small gifts make a child feel special during the holiday season.

As my friend spoke, I thought back to the Christmas when I was just 10 years old. My Mom and I arrived home from a late Christmas Eve church service and as we walked up the stairs to our apartment we found a box addressed to me. Once inside I opened the box and discovered a lovely red skirt and jacket that had been handmade just for me by the daughter of a friend of my Mom's. Also inside this box was one of those Lifesaver Christmas boxes that looks like a book. I do not remember what else might have been inside the box, but to this day I remember how special I felt. I wore that outfit whenever I had the chance and each time I wore it I felt like I was stepping out of the pages of a fashion magazine.

As the Christmas holiday draws closer I realize that it is the little things that matter the most. The traditions that we love as a family and the time we spend together. The gifts are less and less important as my children get older. Each year it seems more difficult to get a list of things my children need or want. I realize how fortunate they are and I am grateful that they live a life that provides well for them. I also know that within that good fortune is a responsibility to give.

Hearing the stories my friend shared and remembering the story from my childhood keeps me focused on what is most important. It is easy to lose sight when you are scrambling to make everything special for your family that the real gift is that we have everything we need, we have each other and we are healthy. The gifts to each other are like a layer of frosting on a cake, it makes it even more delicious, but it is not absolutely necessary. This year as I make treats and gifts, I am pouring myself into them hoping that maybe they will bring a little unexpected joy to someone special. To me the giving is the better part of the gift and from the stories my friend tells about how full her heart is I suspect she feels the same way, but there is a small child in Ecuador that is smiling ear to ear today as she hugs her color markers that feels she got the better end of the deal.

A very worn school picture of me
in my beloved red suit the following Fall 1971