A HEARTWARMING CHRISTMAS STORY

A HEARTWARMING CHRISTMAS STORY

One may never apprehend the real significance of Christmas in the absence of embracing the timeless truth that our “GOD IS LOVE.”  In light of the loving character of God, we are admonished by His Word to “love one another…for everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.” (I John 4:7-8, NIV)  In 1982, Nancy W. Gavin penned a touching story which underscores the meaning and message of Christmas: LOVE.  Here goes…

It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree.  No name, no identification, no inscription.  It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.

It all began because my husband, Mike, hated Christmas.  He did not dishonor the true meaning of Christmas, but he despised the commercial aspects of it – overspending – the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Tommy or dusting powder for Grandma – the gifts given in desperation because you just couldn’t think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties, and so forth.  I reached for something special just for Mike.  My inspiration came in a most unusual way.

Our 12-year-old son, Kevin, was on the wrestling team at school.  Shortly before Christmas, there was a match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, comprised mostly of black children.  These youngsters, who were dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and their sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears.  It was a luxury the inner-city team simply could not afford.  Well, we ended up walloping them that day; we took every weight class.  As each one of the opposing team’s boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tattered uniform with false bravado, a kind of street pride that refused to acknowledge defeat.

Seated beside me, Mike shook his head sadly.  “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said.  “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.”  Mike loved kids and he knew them well – having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse.

That’s when the idea for a unique Christmas present came.  That same afternoon, I went to the local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.

On Christmas Eve, I placed an envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what had been done and the fact that this was his gift from me.  His radiant smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year, and in succeeding years.

Every Christmas thereafter, we followed this giving tradition – one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year mailing a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground right before Christmas, and on and on.

The giving envelope became the highlight of our Christmas.  It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their Dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

As the children grew, toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its loving allure.  The story doesn’t end there.  You see, last year we lost Mike due to dreaded cancer.  When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up.  But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.  Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their Dad.

Our family’s Christmas tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with grandchildren standing around the tree in wide-eyed anticipation, watching as their parents take down the envelopes.  Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be present, and will always be a present, for us.

May we all remember each other this year, and may we never forget THE REAL REASON FOR THE SEASON AND THE LOVING SPIRIT OF THE CHRIST CHILD, now and always.  Merry Christmas!

Sisters and brothers, be continually blessed, and please (above all else) MAKE SURE YOU ARE READY TO MEET OUR SOON COMING KING.  Maranatha!