Gifting

Well, I've gone and done it: I came in over budget, and I went over board. But there is one beautiful display of shiny gold presents under our Christmas tree this morning.

For the past twelve months, I've been painstakingly frugal. The new house is one culprit; the fact that I can't find it in me to do high fashion the disservice of dressing for two is the other. I've been through X number of steps to wean myself off an innate addiction to purchasing new shoes and cocktail dresses. I've put Neiman Marcus lunch breaks on hold. We've been enjoying more humble entrees for dinner, and the wine budget, well that was cut when I saw the little plus sign. I haven't even gotten a hair cut since last February. And yes, it's looking bad.

So when the world called, emailed and jingled me to shop on Black Friday,  I caved. After all, it wasn't for me - it was for everyone else. What started as a one page outline, multiplied as I kept seeing the perfect thing for pick a family member, friend or nook in our house.

When I was done, no doner than done, I thought back on the pitiful birthday present that I got Peter and cushioned his Christmas a little more.

I still wasn't satisfied though. So last week, I picked a tag from the Giving Tree at Church and added a little boy named Jay to my list. He's just two, and he lives in one of the most vulnerable communities in Chicago. On the tag was his little wish list. There were no toys or games, electronics or sports equipment. All he wanted were clothes, underwear, and shoes. I got a little teary eyed as I tucked the tag into my purse.

I've been thinking about this little boy all week; what his Christmas Day will be like, what the New Year will bring ... if he'll succeed in school, make the team, go to college, raise a loving family, make a big impression in his community, and pick a little tag from the Giving Tree in his Church someday for another little boy.

I thought about him while picking out his little outfit at the mall on Tuesday, and then again when I returned to get him one more thing on Thursday. I thought about him while wrapping his gifts in shiny silver paper, tying them together with a big bow, and placing them under our tree. While I'm going to love seeing the surprise and gratitude that my gifts bring to the ones I love, it's Jay's reaction, even though I won't see it, that will give me the most joy on Christmas morning. I hope that the little jeans give him a confident swagger. I hope the flannel shirt keeps him warm. I hope the little robots on his underwear make him laugh. And I hope that Carmel, the teddy bear, provides him all the comfort, hugs and hope he needs at night. Above all, I pray that all the love and joy of the season find him and his family on Christmas Day. 

I think the disproportionate number of gifts for my nieces, soon to be nephew, and little Jay speak volumes. Christmas is at its best, when shared with children. They bring the magic back into the season, as it comes to life through their eyes, words and smiles. They make you believe again as well.

How someone could possibly extinguish, no annihilate the purest and sweetest part of Christmas as he did on Friday, just breaks my heart.    

Lo.