Looking for Something

Gift of the Magi

There’s a lot to do; Things that we’re expected to do because it’s Christmas time. There are 4 food drives that I am aware of this week for different groups to which I belong. There are performances and craft activities; dinners to attend and cards to address. I’m still waiting for that Christmas inspiration to ring in my mind, telling me what I need to do to make this Christmas special for our family this year.

I’m pretty sure that special “something” won’t be anything spectacular or expensive.

One year the “thing” was to help purchase a musical instrument for someone.

Another year, it was to sit in at a Mormon Tabernacle Choir rehearsal on Temple Square. That seems like a long time ago.

One year I went into labor in the midst of over 100 donated Christmas gifts and didn’t make it to the hospital in time to deliver. It’s taken nearly 7 years for me to say, “Boy, that was special.” But really, it was, even then. I held my baby extra close that Christmas and the donated gifts made it to their families. And it was unforgettable; A Mary and Joseph moment, even.

Some years, the special “thing” has been to visit our parents. This is the third year my parents are on their mission, so no Spring Lake Christmas for us this year. We may hop in the car after Christmas and visit someone. Who knows? I certainly don’t.

Christmas is saturated with expectations. I don’t care who you are. You just expect to feel a certain way at some point. I am hoping that I haven’t missed an opportunity help create a memorable Christmas for my family with my indecision and busy-ness.

The tree is up and we are healthy. We are thriving. This year, it may not be one “thing” that defines our Christmas. It may be the memory of a summation of warm feelings and peace. But I’d like it to be more. I’d like an element of sacrifice.

The first Christmas gift I gave Richard was a copy of O Henry’s The Gift of the Magi. It sums up my Christmas expectation: The best gifts are those that require sacrifice. And finding the right sacrifice seems more tricky to me when there’s money in the bank. From my abundance, I wish to give until I feel a lack. And I want to teach that to my children. This doesn’t mean that I believe in spending all the savings. It means sacrificing self to make someone else happy.

There’s the rote answer, “Time is the best gift.” I’m looking for something beyond that. I’m looking for something requiring an element of myself that only I can give, which requires more than time or money.

And in the writing of this, I think I have found my answer.

I’ll keep it my little secret for now. Merry Christmas.

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Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.