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I could feel my blood pressure rising with the noise and confusion of the busy mall. Would Danny rather have a Dallas Cowboy hoodie or just the money equal to that? When I remembered the price tag, I cringed, and knew I really couldn’t afford either one.
I hate Christmas shopping, I thought to myself. Cindy would be pretty easy, I decided, so maybe I’d start with her. Girls like so many things, and goodness knows, there’s lots to choose from! Yet as I stood at the jewelry counter I knew I hadn’t a clue as to what kind of bracelet or necklace to pick. Besides, she already had so much...
The further I walked in the crowds of people, some smiling, others rudely pushing their way through, the more depressed I became. Shopping for grand-kids was so hard! I wondered to myself when the fun went out of buying gifts for Christmas. Was it when we retired and our income seemed inadequate to really purchase the things we might have preferred? Maybe it was when the kids started outgrowing toys and began rapidly changing in their likes and dislikes. I didn’t know. I only knew that I had to go home, get rid of this pounding headache, and try again another day. I was mostly bothered that I had no sense of joy in giving, and knew this was no way to celebrate the birth of the Savior.
Later, as I propped my feet and sipped a cup of hot soothing coffee, my thoughts went back to my own grandmother and I suddenly smiled - inside and out. Though gone for many years now, I could really see her in my mind’s eye as she planned and purchased her gifts.
Grandma had six children, and as time went on, there were 28 grand-children, counting “steps”, as she called them, lovingly. There were the spouses, also her own sister who lived nearby, and a few others. It was quite a list, but Grandma put her whole heart into this, and her 4-foot eleven inch frame was given wholly to it ‘til the task was complete.
There was never a surplus of funds in the Stuart household, but Grandma was adamant that each person should get an individual gift. She was able at first to spend a certain amount on each one, but as the family grew, she simply bought more but less expensive items, still carefully counting to make each gift equal in value. As years went by, she always had a good laugh and lots of fun as she went down the list. She had to mail some presents, as part of the family became less able to make the distance and be “home” for Christmas. I can see her now packing the items: a pair of sox for the men (they had to be one-size-fits-all), hairpins, combs, and brushes for the women, and for the children, it depended on the age. It might be small toys, books (she loved books for the little ones!) or crayons and coloring books. For the teenagers, it got less exact I recall, but I can remember some that I received myself: a scarf (for my head, of course), and one year, a hairbrush and one of those little pleated plastic rain bonnets. One cousin tells now that she still has her gift from one year: a flowered handkerchief and a dime.
Wow! That’s the answer! Grandma didn’t have lots of money, but she expressed her love for each one of us individually. We treasured the things she gave because she was letting us know that we were all special, and we were worth her time and the effort needed to add that touch of real love at Christmastime.
I bowed my head and breathed a prayer of thanksgiving for my grandmother, whose life is still teaching me what’s important.
Tomorrow I would return to the mall, knowing that it doesn’t matter so much what I buy for grand-children and others, but just that they know and remember my caring for each one of them, and that I’m willing to give my time and myself to show it. After all, Jesus did that, and I think Grandma was following in His steps.
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