Giving and Getting

Ahh, Christmas Eve.  Anticipation follows preparation, joy follows frantic.  Shopping and wrapping and cooking and singing and decorating and traveling and partying culminate in a host of complex feelings as I go to bed tonight, and the peace, joy and wonder of tomorrow morning.

Those feelings have changed over the years.  I clearly remember the Christmas Eves where sleep was nigh impossible, ears perked for the sound of bells and hooves, dreams of what would await me under the tree.  Would it be a tricycle, a bicycle, a swing set, a train?  I yearned for the gifts yet to be known, gifts hidden under seasonal paper and adorned with ribbon and bows.  I had browsed, I occasionally risked a shake and a heft, but all remained mysterious and exciting.  As a child, I was into the receiving end of Christmas and could barely wait for Christmas morning when all would be revealed.

I feel very differently now.  I will go to bed tonight sincerely yearning that the gifts I have procured for those I love will be well received.  I want to give the perfect gift.  I want to see joy on the faces of children, peers, family by blood and law as they unwrap what I selected and freely gave them.  The act of giving, a show of love and knowing, means so much more.  The quality of the commercial side of Christmas for me now is the artfulness of my decision making and selections made for those closest to me. 

It may be a comfort to many that I have grown up.  I prefer the giving to receiving.  I have a very difficult time generating a list of Christmas wants for me (OK: a new tie, a new shirt, and dress socks would be nice) and an easy time generating a list of Christmas want-to-gives for others.  This exercise takes place each year with a backdrop of sadness and guilt for those who will not be surrounded by loved ones, for whom Christmas will be sparse, those around the world who would celebrate good shelter, better clothes, safe food and water.  I give what I can to them as well, anonymously and through third parties, but it is not the same.

I would be crestfallen if one of my carefully chosen gifts for one I love was rejected, was trashed, was looked upon with disdain.  I give from the heart with hope of inspiring joy. 

And if that is true for meager, mortal me, how much more true must that have been on the first Christmas when the perfect gift was given.  That remains absolutely overwhelming to me.  I am not man enough, big enough, caring enough to even ponder giving my son to someone else in need, much less to everyone.  I could not bear the pain of seeing that gift (which I am unable to make) be despised, rejected and executed for a host of ungrateful others.  What love!  I aspire to such love, but fall ever so short.

And yet, I aspire to such love.  I’m better now than before.  I love the giving more than the getting.  I think that is what Christmas is about. 

I love you all, those I know and those I do not, in many ways and on many levels, and I sincerely wish for all the gift of love, and a very Merry Christmas!