Christmas service: Bitter? Sweet? Or some of both?

Posted by Johanna | December 8, 2008 | 30 Comments

It was nearly ten years ago at Christmastime I had an experience that only in the past year have I’ve been able to make sense of and make peace with.

It was my second Christmas at BYU, though this year my parents and two younger siblings would be there in Provo too. Very much there, in the living room of the apartment I shared with my older sister, where we now all lived.

That made six of us living in a two-bedroom apartment on the third story of an artsy old building we liked to say “had character” because it sounded better than the more accurate description that the lousy landlord refused to make any repairs and improvements.

My twenty-seven-year old sister got one room. My parents rigged a sheet divider from the ceiling in the other, where they took one side and my thirteen-year-old brother took the other. My fifteen-year-old sister and I shared the living room floor in the evening, unless it was unbearably hot, as it had been all summer, and then I’d take a camping pad down to a corner of the driveway where I’d lined up two pallets, and sleep outside.

Once, after hiking up the long flight of stairs to come visit, a school friend from Mumbai had exclaimed enthusiastically, “This is just like India!”

Things had changed a lot for my family in the past few months. My father had had a lot of schooling and a successful career as a scientist. Now unemployed and in his mid-fifties, he was trying to make ends meet temping as a nighttime security guard.

My mum had shepherded all but the two youngest of their seven children to adulthood and higher education. Now she was on the phone in the mornings waiting to see where the temp agency had an opening for her that day.

Sometime in the middle of December we heard the tramp of several people working their way up the stairs, and then the muffled thump of a mittened hand knocking on the door. On our doorstep stood a smiling, well-dressed family of four, each holding a wrapped gift or two.

“We picked your names!” they said kindly. My parents graciously ushered them in to the living room, where the bedding had already been folded and tucked away until nighttime.

They introduced themselves, we introduced ourselves, we talked a little about why things were the way they were, they handed out the gifts they had picked for each of us. I only remember two of the presents, my own, and my mum’s.

To my mum they gave a basket with four cloud-like mounds of soft, unspun wool. It was a scrap of comfort to realize that whoever it was that had listed our names must have actually known my mother to know that something like that might delight her.

I unwrapped a pair of very nice heavy cotton Eddie Bauer tights. I wanted to hate them on principle, but pragmatics won, and I ended up wearing those things as long as they lasted, a long time, four years or so.

After half an hour, they wished us “Merry Christmas!” and tramped their booted, coated, scarved, and mittened selves back down the stairs.

I actually have never asked my parents their feelings about that Christmas visit. I’m sure they were mixed. At the time they were affable and understanding, but while acknowledging my indignation and outrage, they mentioned the people’s kindness, and expressed gratitude for their effort and the presents.

I was bitterly embarrassed and furious. Picked our names from where? Who had put our names on some needy list? Most of all I was insulted by the fact that they thought their little gifts, these things, this stuff, handed to us from a stranger, could make us happy. How shallow or how infantile did they think we were—did they think I was? Our family, I raged inwardly, our family that had such rich traditions for Christmas; the smells and lights and song and love and laughter and excitement and anticipation of Christmas—these home joys, these were the stuff of happy Christmases. Sure, Christmas would be different this year, but not because of them.

This year, finally, ten years later, I’ve come to accept their offering. What has changed in my heart? My focus on their motive. This year I’m not automatically assuming their motive was self-praising vanity, or the desire to just make themselves feel good for a spirit-of-Christmas lift.

Ten years of my own attempts to show Christlike love, ten years of my own attempts at service with mixed motives and mixed results has allowed me to see that, “People serve one another for different reasons, and some reasons are better than others. Perhaps none of us serves in every capacity all the time for only a single reason. Since we are imperfect beings, most of us probably serve for a combination of reasons, and the combinations may be different from time to time as we grow spiritually. But we should all strive to serve for the reasons that are highest and best.” (I quote from this.)

For example? Elder Oaks lists some here. In brief, from worst to best: earthly reward, good companionship, fear of punishment, sense of duty or loyalty, eternal reward, love of God and love of his children.

Of course,

“Getting to the point where we’re only serving out of love as a motivation is not only a challenge, it is THE challenge Jesus Christ has given us in this life. As the Gospel of Matthew says,

“For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?

“And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so?” (Matt. 5:46–47.)

“This principle—that our service should be for the love of God and the love of fellowmen rather than for personal advantage or any other lesser motive—is admittedly a high standard. The Savior must have seen it so, since he joined his commandment for selfless and complete love directly with the ideal of perfection. The very next verse of the Sermon on the Mount contains this great commandment: “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” (Matt. 5:48.) (Still quoting from the same place.)

I have to admit, there’s something about that word “perfect” that seems so distant from my reality, that it’s tempting to tune out when I hear it.

But Christmas, the remembrance of the humble birth of our Saviour who “came to earth to dedicate His whole life as an example of service to others”, gives me a reason to remember: “even as the mortal Savior’s youthful development was described as grace upon grace (see D&C 93:11–14), we learn how to be effective servants step by step over time. Service is a process of growth.” (Now quoting here.)

As I mentioned, this Christmas is the first since the one I described, that I have been able to revisit that memory with love and gratitude for the family that served us, rather than judging them for where I, in my embarrassment, wanted to assign them in their process of growth. Instead, I’ve finally been able to see it as a key to reading my own trail of growth in service.

Though I don’t think Sub for Santa will ever be one of my family’s Christmas traditions, I will say this: If there were ever a way to find that family, I’d want them to know I plan on Christmas being different this year—because of them.

And you: what have been your experiences and conclusions as the giver or receiver of Christmas service?

Category: Daily Special

Comments

30 Responses to “Christmas service: Bitter? Sweet? Or some of both?”

Brooke
December 8th, 2008 @ 10:19 am

i admit that i love the idea of sub for santa.

but i’ve also noticed how it’s better for everyone if it’s done anonymously. a box on the porch, a gift card tucked into the mailbox– i think if it’s your christmas, then you should get to dictate how to parcel it out to your children or utilize it for your family, with the implicit, secret knowledge that you are very loved and thought of. the giver of service has nothing more than that in the entire equation.
Michelle L.
December 8th, 2008 @ 10:22 am

Ooh, this is such a lovely and thought provoking post Johanna. Serving each other can be so tricky. I’ve found that I receive service best when I desperately need it(like the winter I broke my foot while pregnant with my 6th child). It’s so much harder to be the recipient when you’d be just fine w/o it, thanks.

I enjoy anonymous service because it embarrasses no one. But it’s also good for our children to see the faces and homes of people they are helping. Such an awkward balance.
Melissa
December 8th, 2008 @ 10:28 am

This is a great post.

My husband and I were just talking about this earlier today. We listened to the First Presidency devotional last night and were wondering how we could follow Pres. Monson’s counsel to reach out. I’m struggling with how to do this (and I realize after reading this that part of my motivation has been to provide a meaningful experience for our children as much as to actually serve, so my motivations are mixed as well).

Still thinking.

I love that your mother was delighted with unspun wool.
Kathy
December 8th, 2008 @ 10:36 am

What an interestly candid post… I guess I have never really thought about giving in these terms. I do think it is important for us to have the right motivation, one of love, to give. And, just as important, it is important to accept the gift.

The Savior gave everyone a gift, but not everyone chooses to accept it. Some take time to accept it. But He has given it without thought of Himself. I suppose when we give, it should be the same way, without thought of ourselves.

Very thought provoking. Thank you.
Rachelle
December 8th, 2008 @ 10:58 am

I totally agree with Kathy and I am with Melissa on the trying to find a way to to serve others this Christmas. Each day in my personal prayers I ask for the direction to find someone who really needs and wants our help. But I think this needs to be something that happens every day not just during Christmas. The thought that keeps coming to me is that somewhere someone is alone this Christmas and the best gift to give them would be company or remebrance. I am still looking for that person.

My family always did the anonymous 12 days of Christmas, although occasionally we got caught by the more diligent watchers. Sometimes we just gave silly cheerful gifts and I often think of the single man we did this to once year and how later he guessed it was us. He was grateful for the Christmas cheer this tradition brought him.
Rachelle
December 8th, 2008 @ 10:59 am

I totally agree with Kathy and I am with Melissa on the trying to find a way to to serve others this Christmas. Each day in my personal prayers I ask for the direction to find someone who really needs and wants our help. But I think this needs to be something that happens every day not just during Christmas. The thought that keeps coming to me is that somewhere someone is alone this Christmas and the best gift to give them would be company or remebrance. I am still looking for that person.

My family always did the anonymous 12 days of Christmas, although occasionally we got caught by the more diligent watchers. Sometimes we just gave silly cheerful gifts and I often think of the single man we did this to one year and how later he guessed it was us. He was grateful for the Christmas cheer this tradition brought him.
anonymous
December 8th, 2008 @ 12:37 pm

One difficult holiday season, a kind observer provided my family with the 12 days of Christmas. I didn’t really want to know who did it; I was embarrassed, but grateful. Years later, I was told that the person who did this for me was hurt that I never knew it was them. I find this frustrating. If they were only serving me because they wanted recognition, I wish they would have done it openly, so I could awkwardly thank them each day, and not bear ill will for years that I was ungrateful.
Katie M.
December 8th, 2008 @ 12:41 pm

Really great story and thoughts. I have to say I’m curious though how you sister landed her own room while your parents had to share.
lee
December 8th, 2008 @ 1:16 pm

I enjoyed this post and the comments.
Here is my favorite tidbit of Christmas service:

When I was in high school it was Christmas Eve and we heard our dog suddenly bark crazily. I looked out to see Santa approaching! It was total magic. Every kid in our family from teens to toddlers went nuts. Santa burst in and gave us all hugs, handshakes, a small candy cane, and a lot of ho-ho-hos. He let all the little kids ring his jingle bells. Then he disappeared as magically as he had appeared.

We had plenty of money, and this Santa was poor and mostly illiterate. His service to us is one of my all-time favorite Christmas memories.
Leslie R
December 8th, 2008 @ 2:12 pm

I have enjoyed this post and all of the comments. The unspun wool was also my favorite part.

This season I am particularly aware that there are people in my own neighborhood who have lost jobs, are losing their homes, and are in need of a box of love and encouragement. As a family, we are going to look even closer to home for those who are struggling and in need of prayers answered. We want to deliver boxes on porches (gently and quietly) on Christmas Eve rather than the usual family meal and Christmas program. I want to live the Christmas message with my family this year rather than reading it. Tradition is essential, but so is growth, stretching, and seeing things with new eyes.
Angela
December 8th, 2008 @ 2:32 pm

My husband has some great Sub for Santa stories. One year, he was in the Key Club in high school and helped organize a holiday food drive for a needy family, only to find that after it was all over, the adviser dropped all the food of at my husband’s family’s apartment. They needed it.

After being the recipient of food drives and Sub for Santas when he was a kid, one of the best pieces of advice he offers is if you’re going to donate canned goods, try to donate Spaghetti Os or Dinty Moore Beef Stew or Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup instead of lima beans and denty cans of old peas. The lima beans and mushy peas *are* appreciated (probably more by my husband’s mother than my husband at the time, when he was young). . . but there’s a sense of getting everybody’s cast off food, too. A can of Spaghetti Os, in a weird way, sent a message of being “worthy” of the kind of food that all the other kids were eating. Plus, they were much much tastier (if nutritionally dubious).

This is a great post, Johanna. Thank you!
Justine
December 8th, 2008 @ 2:58 pm

I’ve been in that awkward living room before, the year we tried to donate a Christmas for Sub 4 Santa. I could feel the strange tension in the air, and we made sure we left quickly. We haven’t done it since.

I honestly think that we would be well served to serve in our own neighborhoods first. Especially this year, I’m sure there are people all around us who could use a loaf of warm bread, or a box of food on their doorstep. And even if we’re the ones in need, finding ways to serve those around us is something we could ALL use!
FoxyJ
December 8th, 2008 @ 3:55 pm

Last year my daughter was blessed to attend a Head Start preschool; it really was a blessing for us and she got to attend a quality school for free. The Head Start class was part of a larger school that included families that had a bit more money than we did (we were/are students). They had a book and toy drive at Christmas time, but then I was surprised when my kids (both my dd and her little brother) received presents at Christmas time! I was a little surprised because, while we had little money, we did have some income and had bought our kids a few things. Plus we had grandparents, etc. But there wasn’t much I could do and so we just kept the gifts–we got a great PlayDoh set that my kids still love. But it was pretty uncomfortable and I’m glad no one delivered the gifts in person because I would have been embarrassed.
Kylie
December 8th, 2008 @ 4:11 pm

My husband and I were just talking about this yesterday. Our ward has concluded that we should focus on Matt 25:40 this year, and I like the idea. If we see someone who is “an hungered” or “thirsty,” we can feed them. And that very well mean having some neighborhood friends over to dinner. My favorite was the interpretation of visiting those who are in “prison.” Of course we can visit someone in prison, if we feel we should (and our ward boundaries take in a youth detention center), but we could also visit a young mother who feels “trapped” in her home or an elderly couple who are in “prison” because of their physical ailments. Anyway. It was something to think about.
Erin
December 8th, 2008 @ 4:35 pm

My husband and I started our tradition of spending the bulk of our “Christmas Money” on whomever the bishop felt was needful in the ward. We don’t buy much for our little kids for Christmas, and plan to keep it that way. However, we were little bummed to hear this year that our money would be best spent on extra Fast Offerings to shore up the funds. It’s not as fun, but it feels like a better sacrifice. In addition to donating our “extra” money this month, we also decided to double our current monthly offering starting next year.
not me
December 8th, 2008 @ 6:08 pm

Thank you for writing a truly beautiful post. It has made me stop and think about my motivation for some of the things I have done, and still do. I really think it is usually better to give anonymously.

I have been on both sides of this. About 14 years ago we had 3 small children and no real constant job. We managed though. I thought we were ok and knew the kids wouldn’t notice a small Christmas, being so young. Well, on Christmas Eve my parents and siblings showed up with a HUGE Christmas for us. It was so touching, but also somewhat embarrassing.

The last few years we have put all of our change in a jar all year and the amount we have by December is what we put on grocery store gift cards which we then mail anonymously to people we think could use it. I never knew how happy it would make someone until a few years ago when we mailed one to a family member we knew was really struggling. They have never stopped mentioning it, and they will never know it was us. So we continue this tradition with all of us putting more and more money in the jar all year. It’s an easy way to not really miss the money, and to do some good.
Geo
December 8th, 2008 @ 7:36 pm

Joh, your post heave-ho’d a big sigh right out of me. Isn’t it remarkable how one epiphany can rewrite history? Ten years spent on such a lesson is pretty economical, really—I call that fast learning. Thank you for sharing your beautiful meditation.

At this moment I am remembering when the Bucherts-on-hand went a-caroling at the Norrises’. It was the last Christmas we had with Leslie, though we didn’t know it at the time. I seem to recall that they seemed a little aware of the fact that we showed up to make a fuss over them, and at first there was a bit of awkwardness on both sides. But as we sang, Leslie’s wonderful warble began to tremble along with our voices, and I was overcome with emotion and Spirit. It felt precious and sacred, our voices raised together in praise and sweetness.

This year, I think my main “charitable contribution” is something which also has nothing to do with Sub for Santa, and is (at least technically) apart from Christmas. I just created a brand new holiday (which I will soon announce on my blog and invite you all to celebrate too) so that a dear friend and I will have a celebration we can share this year.
Leisha
December 8th, 2008 @ 8:31 pm

You have so succinctly put to words a topic I’ve been contemplating in my heart for weeks. Thanks for helping me to finally “get” something I’ve had such a hard time with (imperfect people=imperfect service)
jendoop
December 9th, 2008 @ 10:47 am

Thank you for the post. I couldn’t comment right away, it hit too close to home. My older sister and I have been talking about the time we were the sub for Santa receivers. We both remember it differently and now feel differently about it.
I was at an age that I was grateful for the stuff, the mounds of food and special little things that I had never gotten before because it was a ‘want’ not a need. Sometimes people need to know that their wants are heard and recognized too.

My sister felt guilty about it, that there were people more desperately in need of it than we were. She also felt a bit of pride, that we could take care of ourselves.

Many years later I’ve now had some time on the flip side of the situation. Sometimes we’re so happy with what we’ve done to serve that we don’t realize how difficult it can be to receive. There are imperfections in the people on both sides.

Last night while watching Mr. Krueger’s Christmas a thought landed hard in my mind. What people want most is not stuff. They want you. They want SINCERE care and concern. They don’t want you to just swing by and sing a carol, they want you to come in a stay a while and then come back before 12 months go by.
Strollerblader
December 9th, 2008 @ 11:48 am

I keep trying to think of polite ways to respond to this post. But I can’t. I am actually quite riled up about it. Maybe I just don’t understand the gist of the post.

Why are you too good to get gifts from someone that you’re not related to?

Would you receive these same gifts the same way if it was the Savior who handed them to you? Begrudgingly and full of bad thoughts?

Why can’t you be worthy of getting gifts that you may not just need, but maybe that are just ‘wants’?

Why are people who are trying to do something special for you bad? Why can’t they just be people who are trying to spread some happiness? Trying to live like Jesus told us to? Trying to act in His name? Why is it bad that it happens at Christmas? Are you saying that it’d all be fine if it just wasn’t so cliched at Christmas?

Why are you the only one who gets to set the parameters for gift giving?

Does the atonement get the same treatment: “I don’t need your gift. I don’t like it. I can do it on my own. You don’t need to know that I’m needy, lonely, sad, imperfect, etc. And you certainly don’t need to acknowledge it out in the open like that! And I’m bitter because you even *thought* that I needed any help in the form of lame (or not lame) gifts from you!”

Because that’s where I stand on all of the anonymous or not-anonymous Christmas gift giving: It is an extension of the Savior’s atonement for us. How we accept the gifts (wanted or unwanted) of others tells a lot about how we accept the Gift the Savior has given us.

Just accept the gifts. The gifts are only things that are feeble attempts at people really trying to give you tangible love. Wouldn’t it be more awkward for strangers to show up on your doorstep and grab you and hold you in an embrace for 5 minutes?! That casserole, that pair of cheap gloves, those tights — those are objects from people that are trying to show you their love in a way that is tangible.

We are the hands of God on earth. Don’t push those hands away.
‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me’ goes both ways.

Sorry I couldn’t think of any other way to respond to this post. Do I just not understand it?
Liz C
December 9th, 2008 @ 1:30 pm

Strollerblader, I think you do get it–that’s the struggle. Having been on both sides of the equation, it’s HARD to eliminate pride, both as a giver (I want them to know it was me) and as a recipient (we can take care of our own, thanks, and I’m mortified you think otherwise).

Best instances from my life: we were having a HARD year (husband out of steady work for almost 7 months at that point), and had gone to the store for a very small run of groceries. Coming out, a small family hailed us from their car as they passed in front of the store, and handed us an envelope, waving and shouting, “Merry Christmas!” We were so tickled by a random family giving us a Christmas card!

When we got home, we opened it. Inside were three $100 bills. Someone handed us, people they didn’t know at all, $300. And it was wonderful. We have no idea who they were, and could spend the whole rest of the season being grateful for angels who walk among us.

Our experiences as recipients haven’t always been so good, though. We’ve been “given Christmas” filled with items that were well intentioned, I’m sure, but went entirely against the spirit of the season we try to instill in our kids (non-commercial, service, etc… if we share gifts, they’re small but meaningful, rather than large numbers of items just to say we’ve unwrapped a stack.)

On our giving side: a family we knew somewhat was going to be having a rough Christmas. My husband wanted to DO something. We did a big grocery run and came up with food for two weeks, including holiday foods, and picked one gift for each member of the family. We boxed it all, wrapped the boxes, and had to work HARD to deliver it entirely silently Christmas morning (they had dogs!) We signed it “Your Christmas Angel.”

I had the little guy in the family in Sunday School that day, and we were sharing what we most like about Christmas–and he went on and on for about ten minutes on this wonderful blessing that someone had left–how his Mom cried and hugged his Dad, how his Dad looked so happy, how God must have known this little boy really wanted a disc player, how God sent someone to give his MOM a present (this seemed to impress him a lot). I heard the Mom of the family talking about it, too–she knew it wasn’t someone from church, because she was in the Relief Society leadership, and would have been in on it, but she was sure it wasn’t someone from work, but that it was a tremendous relief to know they were covered with so many staple foods… We never let on that we’d been involved, and just enjoyed the good feelings and let Heavenly Father have the credit.

It’s HARD to accept blessings sometimes.
Heidi
December 9th, 2008 @ 3:29 pm

Is it a cliche to be crying by the time I get to the end of all these posts?
My family does sub-for-Santa partly out of guilt and partly out an honest desire to show our gratitude for all that we have been blessed with. Sometimes it is hard to do with a willing heart. When I pull the name of an 10 year old child who wants name brand clothes and expensive electronics when my own 5 children are getting second hand gifts it makes me indignant. Pride on my part I suppose. Then there are sweet moments when I take my children to help pick out the gifts. They show real excitement at picking out for others things that they themselves want. I guess that is why we keep doing it.
Thank you for the essay, and all the posts attached to it. They are a lovely testament of charity and mortal attempts to reach higher.
Emily M.
December 9th, 2008 @ 11:05 pm

Johanna, I love this story. I love the piles of wool. I am so glad you have come to a place where you see the intent of the gift: they wanted to do something kind, even though it was hard for you to receive it at the time. You have received it now, and better still, shared your insights with all of us.

One year my in-laws were struggling, and someone gave them the twelve days of Christmas. They were very nice gifts, and my mother-in-law was so pleased. She tried to figure out who it was. I knew, though: it had to be someone in our ward, who I had been weeping to about what a hard time my husband’s parents were having. I asked this good sister about it, and she hemmed and hawed and said yes, but don’t tell them. Never tell them.

I never did. But I wanted to, because my mother-in-law kept guessing people she had known before, in different wards, or different places (we were new to the area), and what I wanted to say was “It’s not them! It’s these people over here! These are the ones who cared about you so much this year!”

More than anything, I wanted this sister’s love to be recognized. It was not so much her gifts, it was the kindness behind them that I wanted my in-laws to know the source of.

I guess it did not matter in the end; over the years there have been many more kindnesses, from the same source. But I think that is the problem that I have with anonymous gifts, both giving and receiving: I want to know who cares about me like that. And (I suppose it’s selfish. Yes, it is. And counterproductive to the giving. Sigh.) I want the people I give to to know that whatever I offer, and it’s been quite humble, was done with love, that that love came from me. I want them to know that I loved them. And sometimes I can’t find the words to say it well, so I give gifts and hope they feel my love in there too.
cindy baldwin
December 10th, 2008 @ 10:53 am

What ironic timing.

As student newlyweds, my husband and I have been the recipient of a lot of service this semester. We will be spending our first Christmas in the hospital, something that has raised a lot of questions about how we’re going to make it a good/normal Christmas. The other day my husband heard a knock on the door and found a basket with a few simple goodies, a card, and a length of fabric (something that, for me, was about like your mother’s basket of wool!). It was simple, but very sweet.

(Contrarily enough, I really wish I knew who it was so that I could thank them for such a thoughtful gift!)
Rebecca
December 11th, 2008 @ 11:03 am

Wonderful piece Johnna. It reminds me of our currently cramped family situation, and creates me to consider the feelings of my children growing up this way. We too have been the receivers of the kindness of strangers. Sometimes the simplest of gifts can be treasures, especially when the economic aspect of a family doesn’t allow for more. I have always been thankful for these little tokens over the years.

One day when the house is less crowded and our needs are better met, I hope to become the provider of such tokens to others. As such little things can make a world of difference especially during the holidays.
Rhonda
December 12th, 2008 @ 7:54 pm

The beauty of this post is it shows a wonderful transitioning into humility. And, let’s be honest, what are we if we are not teachable? I love the idea of teaching my children that service, TRUE Christ like service, is to be given unconditionally and with complete anonymity when possible.

Thank you for sharing this Johnna.
Zina
December 14th, 2008 @ 12:42 am

My husband and I both come from large families that often struggled financially. I remember the year we received a large box full of wonderful holiday food (oranges, a turkey, goodies,) as well as other thoughtful things like movie tickets. My mom wept both because she hated to need it but also was so grateful to receive it.

My husband also remembers a year that someone brought a big bag of stuff to their house around Christmastime. The kids were all excited about what the bag might contain, but when his mother went through it, she discovered it to be mostly discarded junk of no value. She tried to be grateful for what she could glean from it, but it was painful to have to disappoint the kids’ expectations.

I heartily agree with your now-realization that every gift needs to be received with the same charity it was given with, and with recognizing and being forgiving of the imperfection of givers as well as receivers. But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to educate ourselves as to the more effective ways of giving — finding ways to give what you would really be excited to receive in their shoes. Individuals are all so different that even with the best of intentions things can go awry, but at least we can try to remember to offer the “good” canned foods along with the lima beans, for example.

Thank you to every person who shared your experiences. I especially loved both of Liz’s stories.

I just tried Googling and failed to find it, but does anyone remember this story that was in the news a few years ago: At a drive-through, a family gave some money to pay for whoever ordered next. The next people in line rejected the money and added to the pool, and this went on for hours, with the pool of cash becoming very large. Finally the restaurant manager found a family to give the whole pool of cash to. It turned out they had just moved into town and had little money and were going to have hardly any Christmas.

Maybe it’s an urban legend, although I thought I read it in an online newspaper. Anyway, if it’s an urban legend, it’s one I like.
Mark
December 17th, 2008 @ 12:46 am

This investigation into your life, as it is, is long over due. Since connecting with you on Facebook I’ve hardly spent time trying to reach out and talk about the past 10 years with any of my former family.

I love this story! I love the growth that it implies and the peace that you have found with it. I don’t know if I could be as patient.

I wish I could have attended Chris’ wedding and found a gather of Bucherts to reunite with. My mind turns to those years before you all moved West and my heart pinches every time.

Miss you
Johanna
December 17th, 2008 @ 3:24 am

Mark! My long lost brother! What an absolute treat to hear from you. And what a way to reintroduce after 12 years or so. (Wish you could have been at Chris and Amy’s wedding too, but wish I could have been there more. ?

Everyone else: I loved reading all your comments and experiences, uplifting and not, anonymous and not. What it tells me is there really is no one formula for successful service at Christmas or any time. I’m not convinced that anonymous is always the best thing, but sometimes it is. I remember my first Christmas at BYU my bishop came up to give me an envelope with a check in it. I assumed it was a reimbursement check, so I just took it and said thanks. When I got home and realised it was an anonymous gift of fifty bucks (a vast sum at the time), I asked him about it later. Some other student in the ward had given it to him to give to me. I still have no idea who, don’t even remember who was IN that ward, but had the other wardmember just handed me a check I wouldn’t have spent a good chunk of time trying to smile at and look my wardmates in the eye for the next few months, trying to silently thank whoever had been noticing me/caring for me.

Heidi, you’ve hit the nail on the head for me, with my whole issue with Sub for Santa (by which I mean picking a stranger-to-you’s family name off a Christmas tree in the foyer, gathered and labeled by some (good) organisation.) It’s partly about my gift-giving philosophy in general. On the one hand, when someone has “asked” for something, like name brand clothes or fancy electronics, I have a tendency to evaluate for them, “does a 10 year old really need this?” My kids are still so little. Maybe I will understand this differently when they’re older and have bigger wants. But even if they do, I still think it’s my responsibility to educate them to know the difference between their needs and wants and to be happy and fulfilled even if their Christmas wish lists aren’t. Fulfilled, that is. Even if they are worthy to have their wants filled.

On the other hand, how is the program supposed to work with strangers (kindly) providing for strangers if there isn’t some kind of information like this? This is one problem I have the anonymous-or-not Christmas giving to strangers. That all said, as I tried to point out in my post, I’m trying to not let that get in my way of receiving if someone else doesn’t have that same philosophy. I’m trying. I just don’t GIVE comfortably that way.

Which goes to Justine’s and others’ point, which I heartily agree with, that what most people want is YOU. Your friendship as a neighbour. A shared table. A shared hour and a half. Or even some great wrapped gifts from YOU because you know them and love them and want to delight them.

The other thing Sub for Santa seems to exagerate or maybe create, is the divide between the haves and the have nots. “I have, which is why I’m giving to you.” Strollerblader, you would argue, what is so (freaking) wrong with that!?

Superficially, nothing. But it subtly does two things: 1. In the first place, it puts the emphasis on Christmas being about gifts, getting stuff. 2. It ignores the human-nature truth that people love each other best when they are equal. When we can put our economic differences away (instead of garlanding them at Christmas), we are able to love and help and delight each other with just “wants” for the fun of it, on equal ground.

I live in Malawi right now, I think the third poorest country in the world. I think about the politics of giving almost non-stop, no exaggeration. It’s kind of exhausting. Yesterday our housekeepers (they make about 160 bucks a month) brought us some native fruits we’d never seen or heard of before. We have much more food than they do, of a much greater variety. But receiving something from them is about the most equalizing thing that has happened between us, even more so than them investigating the church (which they have, and it can be a little awkward. “At home you’re boss, at church you’re sister! Very strange.”)

Geo, I loved remembering that time at the Norrises. It’s a great example of how it’s not always an economic discrepancy that can cause initial awkwardness, but how it can be overcome and instead be shared sweetness.

Finally, I’m not sure if I’ve even captured the essence of what I’m trying to say here. Wish I had time to respond to each of you who commented, I love reading you. It’s made my tropical Christmas sweeter. Thanks.
Johanna
December 17th, 2008 @ 3:27 am

Experiences that are uplifting and not, anonymous and not. Sounds like I was referring to your comments…!