Do you realize that Christmas is only a month away? When I was eight years old, it seemed that, once Thanksgiving was over with, Christmas was still in the distant future. Ten years later, I wondered how I could manage to come up with gifts for my sisters, parents, two-year-old nephew and my best friend. When I had been still in high school, I’d received a small allowance from my dad and fifty cents an hour from my part-time job at the Penney’s store. Fortunately, my generous and helpful mother had bought many gifts for my sisters and Dad and encouraged me to choose things to use as my gifts to them. Dad, of course, always made sure I had money to get “something nice” for Mother.
But the Christmas after I turned eighteen, I was away in college and more or less on my own when it came to paying for anything aside from my college expenses which were taken care of by scholarships and my dad. If I wanted to come up with Christmas gifts, I was going to have to figure out where the money was to come from. That’s when I learned a few things about budget management, planning ahead, generosity and pride.
Another ten years and I was married with two little boys and a husband to make a happy Christmas for. We had just bought our first house in a friendly older neighborhood and my husband and I agreed that any gifts for each other would be limited to things for the house and only one small personal gift for each other. The boys were young enough to accept, without question, Santa’s choices of what was to be found under the Christmas tree, and I started my tradition of giving them things in each of four categories; something for the mind (books, puzzles) something to wear (pajamas, cowboy hats, mittens) something to play with (games, toy trucks, sports equipment) and one thing that was their current heart’s desire (within reason) usually labeled as being from their dad.
During the next decade, we had a children’s party about a week before Christmas, inviting all the neighborhood playmates and best school friends for a lunchtime “picnic” around the Christmas tree, and a cookie-decorating session, followed by cookies and cocoa for the kids and coffee and cookies for their mothers who were invited to come at three to admire and help eat the cookies and enjoy a social hour before taking their children home. I had a small departing toy for each of the children. These were Matchbox cars for the boys and Barbie accessories for the girls.
Christmas Eve eventually became an annual wild game supper after the boys began learning to hunt and fish. The few fish or one pheasant, rabbit or squirrel they often bagged was never enough for a meal for our growing family, so I put them in the freezer and cooked and served them all on Christmas Eve, along with fresh oysters, cheese balls, veggies and dip, tiny egg rolls, and whatever else was currently popular, requested or brought by guests.
Because the kids would be up at the crack of dawn (or well before) on Christmas morning, and the day before Christmas was always busy and tiring, I often prepared a breakfast casserole in advance and popped it into the oven as soon as the stockings had been investigated and before the wrapped gifts were distributed. While breakfast was cooking in the kitchen, my husband and I sipped champagne and watched the kids tear into the wrapped packages, exclaiming, laughing or wondering as each gift was revealed and examined. We, and Santa, didn’t get it right every time, but there were always enough things that brought happy smiles and made all the shopping and spending worthwhile. (We could usually blame Santa for the ones that didn’t quite hit the mark; and who could stay mad at him for very long?)
Today, Christmas just gently arrives, and I get to be a pampered guest instead of a weary hostess.
I may get used to it in about another ten years.