I remember as a small child, with a strong Baptist influence, trying to suppress the feeling of greed on Christmas morning as I wondered what was under the tree for me. I think that even then, I was aware that things had somehow run amok in the two thousand years that people have likely been celebrating it for. I was fortunate that before the presents or stockings were opened my father would read the Christmas story in one of the gospels (Matthew or Luke-hopefully Luke so as to avoid the genealogies).
I think that it all came home to me one Christmas in a way that I will never forget. My father, while waiting for the growing line in front of the shower to get moving so that he could begin his traditionally bacon and egg/who-knows-what-else breakfast, had turned on the TV and was watching a World Vision ad in which they were handing out Christmas gifts to children in an impoverished area of Africa. As the camera moved through out the village, I realized that Dad was glancing from the TV screen to our mounds of gifts and treats that were stacked throughout the living room and spilling into the kitchen.
Now, before you get the idea that I was spoiled rotten at Christmas time, let me clarify. I have five brothers, and I think that at least one was married with a child at this point. With ten people in the house, even one or two gifts each amounted to a substantial stack under and around the tree.
I will never forget the look I saw on my father's face that Christmas morning.
As I left home and eased into my twenties, I would often catch myself doing things very much like my father. In fact so much so that I often cringe when I hear myself answering the phone, observe my social diplomatic policy and so on. I cannot go home for a reunion without someone commenting on my collared plaid or polo shirts that are just like Dave Sr. always wears. Needless to say, I have begun working very hard to revise my life to become more unique.
Right, Christmas. So as a result of nature and nurture, I can often guess fairly accurately what Dad is thinking, because I am having the same thoughts myself.
Having six sons, all of whom are hockey players was a source of great pride, exhaustion and, at times, chagrin for my dad. Every September we would have a great equipment sorting. Dad would open up hockey bags and boxes of gear and begin the tedious task of ensuring that everyone had equipment that fit and was in decent shape. The financial impact of outfitting us every year would have been enormous otherwise.
That's the way that my parents ensured that all six of us would have a wealth of experiences within the budget of our family. Road trips to Nova Scotia, weekend backpacking into Pine Lake for fishing and watching Bryce put fishing hooks through his appendages, family football games complete with cousins, uncles and numerous sprains and bruises. Volunteering in bottle drives, as Minor Hockey Treasurer, as coach, trainer, manager and in so many other aspects to ensure that his sons and other peoples children would always have a place to play were just some of the ways Dad would do this. Mom was often in the canteen serving food and organizing other fundraisers behind the scenes.
My mom once told me that my dad would have loved to give each of us brand new equipment every year and take us to Habs', Jays' and Patriots' games, but it just wasn't an option.
I think that is why I was so surprised to see the look on Dad's face that Christmas. He was embarrassed by how much we had. He felt almost guilty that we were blessed with so much when others had little or nothing. He was maybe wondering if his sons would feel the same excitement if, like the children in the village, we were only given a ball between the six of us.
My father never rushes anything except the puck up the ice and I can guarantee you that he definitely didn't skim read the Birth Story that Christmas morning.
They must have done a good job in some respect. My brothers and I now plan months in advance of an opportunity for some or all of us to get together. With eager anticipation we organize fishing trips, football games and family gatherings. Because we learned that, even if there are no presents under the tree, we all still get something at Christmas.
So don't feel too guilty about the gifts. Just don't let them distract you from the Birth of Jesus, from helping others and from spending time with family and friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment