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Importance of family rings true for holiday
(by Christine Thome - December 22, 2010)
BEYOND MY CONTROL, BY CHRISTINE THOME
Importance of family rings true for holiday
Today is the eve of Christmas Eve, and, as I reflect on this holiday season, I realize I waited too long to open my heart to the spirit of Christmas.
Instead of appreciating our family traditions, most of which I worked for years to instill, I cut corners to save money and time.
"OK! Who wants to go to the Christmas-tree lot to pick out a tree?" I yelled to the kids. "We only have two hours to get this done!"
"Tree lot? You mean we're not cutting down our Christmas tree this year?" our son cried.
"Honey, we don't have time," I explained.
"I can't believe you won't let me cut down the tree this year!" he said.
"You like doing that? I thought you hated doing that."
"It's tradition. It doesn't matter if I like it or not -- it's what we do," he exclaimed. "Every year, we drive to three or four Christmas-tree farms. Dad makes us walk instead of taking the hayride, because he says the best trees are off the beaten path, and then declares he doesn't like any of them and he's not paying $80 for a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Then we do it all again at the next farm."
"We don't have time this year. And do we really need the train set under the tree? You guys haven't played with that thing in years," I said.
"You took away my fresh-cut Christmas tree, and now you want to take away my train? Does tradition mean nothing to you?" he cried. "I might as well be Jewish."
"Don't convert until next year. You already missed Hanukkah," I said. "I'll make a deal with you. The train stays, but we get the tree from a lot. It will be cheaper and save us a lot of time."
Needless to say, our son did not go to the lot to pick out the tree with us. It was the first time all of us were not together to get a Christmas tree. And even though the tree looks just as wonderful as it has for every previous Christmas, it isn't a "family" Christmas tree, and I am reminded of that every morning as I plug it in.
Perhaps I should have realized that a 16-year-old boy spouting words of wisdom about family traditions was truly a Christmas miracle.
It wasn't until I was finishing up my long shopping list that the spirit of Christmas finally hit me. Although the stores weren't too crowded, they were understaffed, and anyone in line was forced to wait quite awhile.
But I always make a point not to take my frustrations out on the salespeople, so, when I approached the cashier, I smiled and said, "How are you?"
I expected her to say, "Just fine," as she had done to hundreds of other customers that day. But she didn't say that to me.
Maybe it was my smile. Maybe it was my ability to keep my frustrations to myself, but instead of saying, "Just fine," her smile stopped for a moment, and her eyes became moist.
"As crazy as it is, I'm glad I'm here today. My son shipped out to Afghanistan this morning, and I'm so glad I have something to keep my mind off him for just a few hours."
Wow! Definitely not, "Just fine."
As she rang up my order, I asked her about her son. How old is he? Where is he stationed? How long will he be gone? Will she be able to communicate with him?
As she talked about him, her smiled returned, and her spirits lifted. As I heard her love and adoration come through her words, I suddenly felt more at peace than I had all season. My feet and shoulders weren't aching anymore, and my smile was genuine.
"Thank you," she said as she handed me my bag and took a second to squeeze my hand.
"No, I want to thank you for raising such a wonderful, selfless young man and for reminding me what's important, especially this time of the year," I said.
The spirit of Christmas had finally found me. May it find you, too.
Wherever you may be.
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