It's Christmas Time, Once Again.

The Christmas holiday is here again, and we are once more bombarded by a seemingly infinite number of media messages exhorting us to buy, buy, buy. I will spare you the obvious comparisons of what the holiday has become to what it is supposed to be about – that’s been done elsewhere, in many ways, and sometimes quite well. Certainly, Christmas has changed, and there is always a rerun of “It’s A Wonderful Life” or “Miracle on 34^th Street” to remind us of that.

I remember when my now adult children were actually children, back when Christmas presents were the big deal. As a single father, living in near poverty, I nonetheless took a rare $1,000 Christmas bonus and spent it all on my kids. I bought the latest and greatest of whatever they had their hearts set on, as much as I could, without going into massive debt. The joy on their faces was worth whatever temporary relief I might have had from paying off an extra bill, or buying steak instead of hamburger. Besides, when things are tight, it’s important that kids feel like everything is okay, even when it’s not. Dishonest? Maybe... I called it ‘damage control.’ And it felt more like Christmas.

Now they are all adults, and Christmas has changed. We’ve done a ‘secret Santa’ single gift exchange for years, keeping costs down for all of us as our family expands with new spouses, grandchildren, etc. We’d draw a person’s name from the hat on Thanksgiving, and spend no more than $100 total on that person, whether it was on one single gift or five. It was fun, saved us money, and we all enjoyed sitting around and enjoying the joy and surprise of each person, in turn, opening their goodies. Smiles... laughter... a few tears, even. Felt more like Christmas.

Last year, we broke some new ground, thanks to my son’s wife, Julie. She suggested that we each donate the money we would have spent on someone’s ‘stuff’ and donate it to a charity that person would want to support. We all drew names, then contacted our person later to find out which causes they supported, and which organizations they favored for us to give to. We looked into the suggested charities, made our choice, and donated the money in that person’s name.

On Christmas day, we gathered as usual, but we had no packages in our hands... just a single envelope from each of us. We sat around after the meal, opened the envelopes, and each talked in turn about why we felt connected to the particular charity we had chosen, the values they cherished, and the importance of the love and compassion behind the worldly actions. This father was gifted with the sight of his adult children each expressing why they felt certain charities were important, and what inside of them connected to what that particular charity did. There were smiles... laughter... a few tears, even.

This year, we’re adopting a project of two of Julie’s friends, who are going to help rebuild infrastructure in a small village in Sri Lanka that been decimated by civil war... schools, health care facilities, houses. They will carry our small wad of collected funds to aid in the effort, and even though it’s just a drop in the bucket compared to what is needed, great and powerful oceans of change are composed of many tiny drops in many, many tiny buckets. We’ll sit around together after our Christmas meal and talk, and share. We’ll enjoy each other’s company, and feel joy that we have this bit of time together amidst the demanding rush of the material dross. We’ll enjoy the young grandchildren, eyes sparkling, full of happy noise, and feel the magical presence of life being renewed once again, unending, bringing the promise of better people, better choices, better outcomes than what we see today. We’ll feel hope, compassion, and love. And gratitude. Always gratitude. Feels more like Christmas all the time.