A Merry New Christmas

An American-Christian’s Christmas. It’s a tricky one. I don’t have to rehearse the litany of Christmas-as-related-to-materialism issues for you. You are living with them, too. You make your peace with them as you see fit.




The problem is that Bryan and I didn’t feel a lot of peace with these issues. We had this ideal of celebrating Christmas as the birth of the Savior of the world, the day God came down to pitch His tent among us. But in practice, we were training up our kids to look forward to the presents. We could say, “Think about Jesus, Think about Jesus, Happy Birthday Jesus!” all we wanted. But, come on, when they know that Christmas is The Day they open Presents, are these children really supposed to care that much about Jesus?



In practice, we were teaching them to say, “I love Jesus’ birthday because I get lots of presents!”



As for my part: so much energy spent trying and hoping for a gift that would please and delight them and make “this year’s” Christmas one they would “never forget.” Maybe Bryan didn’t feel that way about it, but something about the mother inside me felt that way. And so built into the celebration was also the expectation that our delight would be or could be in the presents.



We’ve had only 3 Christmases, really, where we had children old enough to understand the whole “wake up and open presents” thing. The first two, there was a sense of let down in each one. Not in the moment, of course. In the moment, it was fun. But before even just one day was over, the happiness from those gifts had worn out. Well, duh, Amy. Stuff doesn’t fulfill you and it won’t fulfill your kids, either.



The third Christmas, I only remember being glad to have a day off from radiation.



I entered this Christmas season with a deep sense of foreboding. Gemma just turned 7. Time was running out to set a new course for our family. Enter a new Christmas.



The new Christmas isn’t about not getting any presents. Presents are fun. I like getting them. I really like giving them. But Bryan and I also had to take a hard look at our kids’ lives as compared to how we grew up.



When we were children, we got gifts on our birthdays and on Christmas. And. . .that was kind of it.



Gemma and Joshua? Sheesh! They get stuff all the time! They get goodie bags from birthday parties. They get stuff from AWANA throughout the year. They get souvenirs when we travel, which is a great deal more than Bryan and I traveled at their age. They get souvenirs when Bryan or I travel. They get gifts when people visit us. And when grandparents come. And they get things when we find it for pennies on the dollar at garage sales and auctions.



And this is all just extra stuff! When it comes to supplying their physical needs, we give them everything right when they need it.



Believe me: there is no shortage of toys and craft materials and, and, and. . . We are flush with stuff. There is more stuff in their future, throughout the whole year. It really is OK that Christmas is not going to be another day on which they open presents for themselves.



And a new Christmas doesn’t even mean no gifts at all. There are other people in our kids’ lives who wanted to give them gifts. Bryan and I didn’t tell the kids, “You won’t get gifts from us, but don’t worry, because so and so will send you something.”



But others did send them or give them something. Gemma and Joshua opened these gifts early, throughout the season of advent, and it seemed to me as though they enjoyed the presents even more because they were surprised by them, and because they were spaced out.



All the while, Christmas was still coming. Would this be the year our Christmas would really be a celebration of Jesus’ birthday? Because, as Bryan and I see it, if Christmas really is about Jesus, then it’s pretty clear whom the gifts should be for.



I was hesitant about suggesting a new Christmas to the kids. Mostly, I did not want to create any resentment in them towards Jesus. As in, “My parents are Jesus freaks, so we don’t get to have any fun.”



But the Holy Spirit suggested to me, “Don’t underestimate their compassion.”



So one day, a few weeks before Thanksgiving, I sat down with Gemma and Joshua and the Samaritan’s Purse “gift catalog.” This is an outstanding organization. They work in the poorest parts of the world, caring for people in the name of Jesus. The gift catalog gives a description of the things we can give a poor family simply by giving American dollars to Samaritan’s Purse: a water filtration unit that lasts for a lifetime ($100), a flock of chickens ($14), education to rescue a woman from exploitation by giving her a trade (a mere $70...)



After perusing this catalog, I said to the children, “Mommy and Daddy spend a certain amount of money on Christmas presents each year. What if we used that money to buy things for the families like we see in this catalog?”



Do you know what Joshua’s reaction was? He shrugged. He’s only 4. There’s nothing in a 4 year old that looks forward to Christmas morning as an old school Christmas morning.



Do you know what Gemma’s reaction was? Her eyes got big and she smiled a huge smile and said, “Can we give them chickens?!?”



So that was our plan as Christmas approached. We weren’t sure what they would think when the day actually arrived.



Then it came. We woke up. Had breakfast. And I am telling you the truth: There was not one scintilla of “She looked around, saw there were no gifts, then remembered, and her shoulders slumped a little but at least she didn’t complain.”



No mention of opening presents at all!



The four of us sat on the couch with a dollar amount written on some paper. Then we shopped for Christmas gifts and subtracted the amount as we went. Water filtration units. (My choice) Two dairy goats. (An idea we all liked.) A fruit tree. (In honor of Papa Pedro.) A stocked fishing pond. (Bryan’s choice.) Chickens. (Gemma, of course.) Honey bees. (Joshua’s idea.) Clothing and shoes. Soccer balls and other sporting equipment. (The children both insisted.) And several mosquito nets to protect babies and small children from malaria.



Then we sang “Happy Birthday” to Jesus and blew out candles for him. (Technically, this was an electric candelabra Grandma Gayl had up, and Josh unplugged it at the right moment.)



And so a New Christmas was born. It’s beautiful. I’m already looking forward to it next year.