The Christmas Gift

The Christmas season evokes strong memories for most people. Whether it's scents and sounds, songs, food, or toys and special gifts, Christmas is filled with good thoughts and happy times.

The makeup of those memories has changed significantly over the past hundred years, I've noticed.

Back in the days of the pioneers, the gifts were usually handmade items, often of a practical nature, from materials that were readily at hand. The children might get a pair of pajamas, or a pair of fur lined leather mittens, and for a special treat, some candy made over the fire.

If they were especially lucky, their mother would make them a sawdust or corn cob doll to play with, or perhaps a whittled gun. For an extra special girl, she might get a new dress for the holiday, while a boy might have a new pair of pants that weren't handed down from an older brother (or two.)

When my mother was little, the holidays had gotten slightly more commercial, and some city people were giving and getting more, both in quantity, as well as expense. My mother's family, however, were rural farm folk struggling to survive in the midst of the Great Depression, with no extras available for holiday cheer. My mother tells stories of the wonder of Christmas, but she is referring to the Christmas tree alight with candles burning on each branch, not the multitude of packages under it.

My mother still lives in the farmhouse where she was born, and it is easy for me to envision the scene that she has described. The living room doors, pocket doors that have never been closed in my life, were closed in the winter when she was small to help conserve the heat which was provided by a large wood burning stove in the dining room. The tree would be hidden behind those doors, and on Christmas Eve, the candles would all be lit, and the children would sit around the tree in wonder and watch it sparkle and shimmer and glow.

I'm sure my grandparents couldn't have begun to imagine the lighting displays that we see now; fiber optics and LED lights and the chasing, flashing ornaments that adorn even the most humble of trees. My mother tells me it was a once a year treat to see the tree alight, and to sit and stare in wonder at the glory of it all. I am not so sure that with our fancy displays we have captured the wonder of the season any more effectively than that once a year tree lighting in a humble farmhouse set in the middle of a harsh Minnesota winter.

One of my most cherished tree decorations is a small candle holder from her childhood tree, a tangible reminder of all the people who have been there before me. I clip it onto my tree each year in a prominent place as a way to bring the past to the present, a reminder that we are a part of them, and they are a part of us, and we are all together in celebrating this holy holiday.

My mom, when pressed, will talk about the small tokens she received and we chuckle, because they are hardly worth a mention in the current acquisitive climate. My favorite stories are about the doll and the pair of skates she shared with her younger sister, obviously from different holidays. I giggle every time I think about the two of them, each wearing a skate, holding hands and holding each other up in the middle!

But the doll and skates were important presents to them, because they are the only presents she remembers getting. Their stockings were filled with an apple and some nuts, a tradition she carried through to when my brother and I were little. They were simple gifts, it's true. But they were also meaningful, because of all the things that have filled my stocking over the years, the nuts and fruit are the ones I remember.

When I was little, Christmas had gotten more consumer oriented. I recall the commercials that would start shortly after Thanksgiving, hawking the trinkets they wanted you to believe you couldn't live without. I remember all the gadgets that would be sold, the original infomercials, shilling hot doggers and snow cone makers and other electronic toys that they hoped the children would find irresistible.

I'm sure everyone has their own commercial that sticks in their mind, but for me, the harbinger of Christmas each year was the Norelco razor, swooshing down the snowy hill like a sled, coming to brighten your holiday with a closer shave. That commercial was on television for many years, and it always signaled the start of the holiday season for me.

I got many wonderful gifts for Christmas while growing up, although they may not seem all that exciting to today's child. Mostly, I got clothes and practical gifts, because we didn't have much money, and my mother is a practical person by nature. (She is a Minnesota Lutheran. I shouldn't need to say more.)

I got a doll nearly every year, and by the time I was ten or twelve, I had a pretty sizable collection of them, some of which I still have today. There is a certain scent of plastic that will bring me straight back to Christmas Eve and the simple thrill of opening a new baby doll even now. (Often with some now treasured handmade clothes to go with her. The clothes were my mother's works of heart, and they are all beautiful.)

Usually we had a jigsaw puzzle to work on during the 12 days of Christmas, because my mom is the world's most dedicated puzzler. There would be another toy or two, as well; perhaps a board game to play, or something for a pet.

One year, I got the hottest item being advertised, a Baby First Step, which was an exciting moment indeed. She was battery operated, and when you turned her on, she would actually walk across the floor. It was thrilling to see her move all by herself, and I was the envy of everyone around the tree. (Well, okay, maybe not everyone. But I was the envy of my younger cousin, Ahna, who wanted her, too. She got one the following year.)

Although I got many wonderful presents over the years, one of the best presents I ever received was a black and white kitten with the biggest paws you've ever seen, given to me by my older brother. Unfortunately, he didn't think to check with my mom before handing over the box with the live animal in it. I screamed, she groaned, and the cat won, because he got a new, loving home with a girl who adored him.

He was the gift that kept on giving, because he brought joy and aggravation in equal measure for all the years of his life, which were too few, because he was a tomcat, and he had a wandering nature. Living on a farm, there were lots of opportunities for him to find trouble, and despite his enormous size, he always seemed to come out on the worst end of the battle. But I loved him, and he remains one of the best presents I ever received.

I have been thinking a lot about the past this Christmas season, and how Christmas has become one of the main drivers for our entire economy. Retailers live and die by the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and a slow spending season is the death knell for many of them. While we argue over whether or not a nativity scene can be placed on the courthouse lawn, the reality of the financial importance of the season is all but ignored. It seems ridiculous to me that it is called the "winter holidays" by many, as though it were some kind of generic event, rather than acknowledging that without Christmas, our entire retail system would likely fail.

At the same time, I feel that the real meaning of the season has been overshadowed by the need to give and get the most expensive, newest items available, regardless if they are affordable or not. I doubt that there are many homes in which a simple tree with lights on it will be enough this year. And I wonder whether our joy in the season is any greater than it was back when a stick of candy and a rag doll was considered a bountiful holiday.

I am as guilty as anyone, of course, and I'm not putting anyone down for either giving or getting. I enjoy the giving at least as much as anyone, and I enjoy receiving what my loved ones think will bring me happiness, as well. I believe that Jesus was The Gift from our heavenly Father, and it is a good tradition to give to the people we love in response to the gifts we have received.

But this year, I have spent more time than money on my gifts, creating handmade items that I hope will bring joy to the recipient for a long time to come, not just because of what it is, but because of the love that went into the creation of it. I have spent a great deal of time, which is as scarce as money in my life, to dream up something that will be meaningful to each person, and have put together presents which I think will be appreciated as much for the love they contain as the gift itself.

Although a lack of financial wherewithal is a part of the impetus for this crafty expression of my love, it is also a frustration with the loss of the meaning for the season that is increasingly about what we can get, instead of what we've been given. Although holiday "creep" is an increasing problem, I was genuinely shocked to see Christmas aisles going up in the stores immediately after the school supplies were relegated to the clearance aisles this year.

It makes me sad that entire holidays are being overlooked because they aren't lucrative in order to push the shopping orgy which Christmas has become. I recently saw Christmas referred to as Giftmas, and I thought that was a fair analysis of the holiday in our time. I don't think we are better off for it.

I don't propose to do away with the gift giving. The pile under my own tree gives the evidence to that. But I do wish that we could spend more time focused on what Christmas means, instead of worrying about having the means to pay for it all.

I wish that we could watch the old Christmas movies and eat popcorn and play board games together, and find the joy in each other this Christmas season, instead of losing ourselves in the latest electronic toy that brings the world to us, but takes us out of our world and away from the people who mean the most to us. I wish that instead of spending time texting people outside our homes, we could talk to the people who are right in front of us. I wish that instead of wishing we were somewhere else, with other people, we could be happy for where we are, and who we are with. I wish that instead of wishing for more money, we could have more time to enjoy what we do have.

My real wish for each person this Christmas is to find the Gift that God has given to us, and to spread that Gift to everyone we know. Live well, laugh often, give much of yourself, and the world will be a better place for all of us.

Merry Christmas to each and every one of you in 2010. I do hope your wishes come true, and that each present you give and receive will be a reminder of the love that is abundant in our lives, if only we care to see it. I wish you grace, and peace and comfort, and a holiday filled with all good things.