THE CHRISTMAS ENVELOPE
Tired of the traditional Christmas where gifts are exchanged between
family members who have plenty and don't really know what to buy for
each other?!
Then read the following and change tradition into the real meaning of
Christmas!
A touching story ...
A Christmas Story
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---oh, not the
true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of
it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie
for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma---the gifts given in
desperation because you 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. The inspiration came in an unusual way. Our son Kevin, who
was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he
attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match
against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black. These
youngsters, 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 sparkling new
wrestling shoes.
As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team
was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to
protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously
could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every
weight class.
And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around
in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't
acknowledge defeat.
Mike, seated beside me, 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-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league
football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present
came. That afternoon, I went to a 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 the
envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and
that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about
Christmas that year and in succeeding years.
For each Christmas, I followed the tradition---one year sending a group
of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a
check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the
ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.
The 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, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope
never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.
You see, we lost Mike last year 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. The tradition has grown and
someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing
around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers
take down the envelope.
Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us. May we
all remember Christ, who is the reason for the season, and the true
Christmas spirit this year and always.