Medford mail tribune., December 21, 1958, Image 38

hristmas Gifts
. December 21, 1958
Never Forget
n
They weren't expensive presents; they were profound lessons which the author learned from his children.
I t all started several Chris tmases ago with our
' 10-year-old daughter, Patsy. We had opened the
gifts from the other children indeed, we had
opened all our gifts before we found hers. They
were two very small packages, wrapped carefully
if a little untidily, with more area of gummed
stickers than of paper.
Inside each package was a homemade card.
Mine read: N
"Dear Dad:
I.O.U.
5 car washes
10 lawn trimmings
5 leaf rakings
5 snow shovelings
Merry Christmas from Patsy"
Her mother's gift included 10 trips to the grocery
store, 10 house dustings, 10 Saturdays of helping
with the housework, and "practicing the piano
without complaining" which was the most wel
come gift of all.
I don't remember how many of these presents
were actually collected; I'm sure a good many of
them were. But I've never forgotten the spirit
behind those two simple gifts the desire to give
bountifully of what she possessed. She had very
little money with which to buy presents. But she
had unlimited energy, good will, love, affection,
and a desire to give of herself. And she had time.
Of these commodities she gave unstintingly; and
what thoroughly satisfactory gifts they made!
We've been trying to apply the I.O.U. principle
to Christmas ever since with some remarkably
heart-warming results. For example, we once
gave a neighbor couple, who were tied close to
home with a small baby, a Christmas I.O.U. for
a dozen nights of baby-sitting. They were as
grateful as if we had given them a new car, and
we in turn were able to work up a new Christmas
glow every time one of us stayed with their baby
while they went out.
But Patsy's I.O.U.'s taught us an even more
basic lesson: that there are many fine gifts we can
give in addition to expensive material things.
And often these gifts bring more joy than the
most costly store-bought presents. For example,
two years ago, my wife Janet baked individual
fruit cakes for the entire neighborhood at Christ
mastime. Last year she prepared a dozen pans
of breakfast rolls on Christmas Eve and baked
them on Christmas morning. Then all of us went
through the neighborhood delivering breakfast
rolls with a Merry Christmas from our family.
by Joseph N. Bell
Art by Bill Randall
These gestures bring pleasure and satisfaction far
beyond the time and effort required to perform
even the hardest of them.
We can learn a great, deal from children with
their clear insight and ability to keep from getting
tangled up in trivialities every day in the year.
But especially we can learn from them at Christ
mas. Left alone, they would retain a solid per
spective on the beautiful things of Christmas
the desire to give, to share, and to sanctify the
ideals taught by Jesus, whose birthday we cele
brate on Dec. 25. At least that's the way it has
been at our house over the 15 Christmases we've
spent with our children. Although they've taught
us many things like the lesson of the I.O.U.'s
two stand out.
Pirst, our children have made us realize the
'importance of being good receivers as well as
enthusiastic givers. This lesson has come up fre
quently, but I recall two Christmases in particular
where it was underscored.
Our son David had long been interested in
printing and had several times put out neighbor
hood newspapers, painfully pecked out on a type
writer. He had a toy printing set which he had
long ago outgrown; we looked into the cost of a
larger one and felt it was too expensive. But that
Christmas we bought David an encyclopedia to
keep on his desk for reference in his schoolwork.
When the book was delivered, he answered the
door and I caught a glint of exhilaration in his eye
when he saw the package, although it was securely
wrapped and unidentifiable.
On Christmas morning, he searched impatiently
under the tree until he found that package. Ex
citedly he tore off the wrappings, and I'll never
forget the look of complete, utter desolation and
bewilderment when he saw what was inside. After
a few minutes of stunned silence, he gravely
thanked us for the gift and a few minutes later
went upstairs. I found him in his room, crying,
but he wouldn't tell me why. He promised to re
join us, and when he did, he was cheerful the
rest of the day.
It was three years before he finally told us the
reason for his heartache that Christmas morning.
He had been praying for a printing press, and
when he saw the return address of a printing
company on the encyclopedia package and felt
its weight he was convinced the package con
tained the press he wanted so badly. He hadn't
been able to hide his first disappointment; but he
refused to let it spoil our Christmas, too.
A few years later, I was helping our youngest
daughter, Debby, do her Christmas shopping when
we passed a candy store. There was a magnificent
box of candy on display in the window and, half in
jest, I said to her:
"You know, I've never had a box of candy like
that all my own."
A few weeks later, on Christmas morning, there
it was my box of candy, with a card which said a
little unsteadily: "Merry Christmas from Debby."
The candy had cost five dollars, and I knew that
was almost exactly the amount she had been
saving for a new doll she wanted desperately. Yet
I've never seen such an expression of beatific
delight as she had when I opened her package.
She had scarcely looked at any of her own gifts,
waiting for me to find and open the candy.
I was deeply moved and I told her so; then,
putting my arm around her shoulders, I said:
'This was a wonderful, generous thing to do, but
really it's too much. You shouldn't have spent all
of your savings on my gift. Now, we'll take it
back next week and get a nice small box of candy
that I'll like just as well and you can still get
the doll you want."
She gave me a puzzled look. "But I want you to
have this one!" .she said. "It's your first box of
candy, and I want to give you this very special
one all your own." .
"I appreciate that," I told her uncomfortably,
"but won't a little one do just as well?"
"No," she said, and tears welled up in her eyes
and her voice.
Suddenly I saw that she wanted me to have
that box of candy even more than she wanted her
doll and that I was depriving her of one of the
most satisfactory of all human experiences, the joy
of giving. By being a poor receiver, I'd already
taken the edge off her pleasure and anticipation,
but it wasn't too late to recoup her joy; it always
lies just below the surface, ready to be called
forth, in the very saddest of children.
"It's the most wonderful present I've ever had,"
I told her, "and I want to share it with everyone
who comes here today."
She glowed then, and in her eyes I could see the
spirit of Christmas personified, and I wondered in
how many other homes this same glow was warm-
4 Family Weekly, December II, 195