The Giving Tree
There has been less of the ordinary hustle and bustle of Christmas this year. Additional time for reflection is available since I am out of work and have fewer funds for shopping. My husband and I made the decision to forego buying gifts for each other this year so that we can buy more presents for the kids.
Facing a bankruptcy, the future is uncertain, which makes it easier to reflect on the past. Thinking of my children, the idea struck me for the first time of what this Christmas must be like for them. Do they feel the same wonder and awe that I did when I was a young child? At these thoughts, the Ghost of Christmas Past stepped ahead of Christmas Present and visited my memories.
Sleep was fleeting on Christmas Eve. I awoke in the night, immediately wondering if Santa had come yet. Throwing back the covers, the first thing I noticed was the overwhelming silence. I saw my own long shadow extend across the room from the silver moonlight coming through the bedroom window. My heart beat a little faster as I approached the stairway.
The padding of my pajama-clad feet on the wooden stairs softened the quiet as I descended. Slowly and carefully, I stepped around the corner to feel the entrancing light of the Christmas tree break on my face. Though the lights shed no heat, the intensity of my wonder was palpable and seemed to radiate with the tree's glow. Thoughts of Santa vanished as I basked in the beauty before me.
The magical sense of awe and the sheer beauty of a lonely tree in the night, lighting up everything around it, made me understand for the first time my own smallness and the greatness of the world. My child's heart believed the tree to be brave, bearing the night alone and still shining brightly. My heart inflated with joy and anticipation that had less to do with getting toys and more to do with feeling absolutely, unequivocally loved. I was one with my family and warm in their protection. This one moment of wonder has shaped my view of life ever since.
Prior to this year, I had forgotten about my childhood wonder, lost in planning and preparation for the big day. Yet this year, my awe has returned and joy for the coming day fills me. I am grateful for the silence and time for reflection that the lack of abundance has provided. Although it sounds strange and out of place, I am happy to get nothing for Christmas. The greatest gift I will get this year is giving.