All I want for Christmas is . . . a time portal?
- Michelle Wood: SWCD
- December 18, 2010
- 342
Yes, my son wanted to be able to travel back and forth in time. I felt bad telling him we couldn't just go out and buy a time portal, and when his second suggestion (that we build it instead) was shot down as well, it was quite the disappointment. He didn't get a pet rat that year either, poor kid.
Christmas requests since then have been a little more conventional, but evermore worrying in terms of quantity, quality, and cost of the items desired. My little speeches (okay, we can call them tirades) about appreciating what we have and about being good stewards with our money fall on unconcerned ears. I try to employ a little healthy guilt about needy children who long for the toys that litter my kids' bedroom floors. We sort through their belongings every year, selecting items to sell or donate. I preach about cheap plastic toys that break or lose their mystique within a week. But none of this seems to have any effect as Christmas commercials hit the airwaves and holiday toy fliers from department stores start weaseling their way into my home—in October. I realize I'm doing battle with decorated soldiers and hard-edged veterans of the advertising world. These people have spent years in training—they've analyzed psychological studies and test groups, and are fully engaged in guerilla-style trend-setting and propaganda blitzes. And I'm losing.
It doesn't help that we live in the same town as both sides of our families. My daughter recently declared, "We're really lucky—we get three Christmases: one with just us, one with the Nislys, and one with the Hertzlers." Just as I was getting ready to make some sort of warm, familial, spirit-of-Christmas comment, she continued, "That's LOTS of presents!"
Honestly, I love presents, too. I love buying them, I love giving them, and to be frank, I love receiving them. And I'll admit that every year, even though I promise myself that I'll stick to my budget, I always overspend. Presents really are part of the fun of Christmas, and I'm not about to give that up or ask my children to. But I'm greatly concerned about the Holiday Greed Factor, and every year face the challenge of finding ways to focus on non-material, faith-centered traditions.
If I use my son's time portal idea and apply it á la Ghost of Christmas Past, it's noticeable that my favorite and most vibrant holiday memories have little to do with presents. Well, there was that year my parents made me a furnished doll house—that, I remember. But when I think back to my most unforgettable Christmases, I remember trips to Canada and Indiana and Florida to be with family. I remember the huge metal advent wreath that hung from our church ceiling whose candles were lit by dancers each Sunday to the song O Come O Come Emmanuel. I remember the year my dad sang Away in a Manger in a Christmas program, while I posed as part of an old-time tableau, dressed in a flannel nightgown and cap that my mom made. I remember our Christmas Eve tradition of eating cheese fondue and opening stockings. I remember cookies, party mix, candles, Mom's pecan pie, caroling, hot chocolate, special ornaments and songs, church and school programs, parties, television specials we stayed up late to watch (Charlie Brown, Frosty, Rudolph), the challenge of finding the perfect tree . . .
I remember the Christmas we spent with my Mom's extended family less than a month after my uncle and his son-in-law were killed in a plane accident. We had gifts to exchange, but what I remember is all of us somberly gathered around the Christmas tree to hear Grandpa read the Christmas story from his old Bible and his voice full of tears as he prayed.
My Christmas time portal reassures me that regardless of the visions of plastic toys dancing in the heads of my children, I'm right to hold firm. They may want their Legos and remote controlled whatsits and plastic dogs that can swim. But whether or not they get what they want, what they'll remember is what we do—the traditions we maintain, the time we spend together. So we're working hard to create and sustain our own traditions that will become part of our unique family story.
As for the gifts? That will always be a struggle. I've heard lots of alternatives and suggestions—everything from limiting presents to three (in reference to what the Magi brought), to giving only homemade gifts, to doing service projects or family trips/outings instead. These are all great ideas, and we often employ some combination of them, but no matter what we do, kids will still mope and hope and dream over toy catalogs.
Of course, this year, they're asking for a puppy . . .
This year we have a special gift for Another Way readers: a daily (good year after year) calendar, 366 Ways to Peace. For a free copy, write to Another Way, Box 22, Harrisonburg VA 22803. (Include the name of your paper in your response.)
You can also visit Another Way on the Web at http://www.thirdway.com.
Melodie Davis is the author of nine books and has written Another Way since 1987. She is also the producer and co-host of the Shaping Families radio program airing nationally.
Editor's note: Jodi Nisly Hertzler writes occasionally for Another Way, and was one of the food editors for the new book, Whatever Happened to Dinner? Recipes and Reflections for Family Mealtime. She and her husband have two sons and a daughter.