Beech Tree News Network

Christmas is my favorite time of year, because I love giving gifts to people that they didn’t ask for or didn’t even know they wanted.  I pay attention.  I listen, not just to what people say, but to what people mean when they say what they say.  I love to see surprise and delight in another person’s eyes.

                When my granddaughter, Sabria, lived with us, she wanted a white Christmas tree with colored lights for her room.  One weekend when she was at her dad’s, I set up one.  I decorated it with Disney princess ornaments.  When she got home, I took her into the room to see it. It was resplendent with sparkle. 

                “This is for me?” she said.  “Thank you, Gee.”

                It was the sweetest, most genuine reaction I have ever received from someone for a gift I gave.  That is Christmas to me.

                I think I enjoy giving gifts because I remember the gifts I received as a child, and the joy those gifts gave me in an otherwise less-than-joyous childhood.

                I remember the bride doll I got for Christmas when I was four, and Chatty Cathy and Chatty Baby when I was five and six.  I remember the cowgirl hat and vest with the sheriff’s star, the holster and cap guns, the roller skates that strapped to my tennis shoes, and the baby buggy I could pile everything into, come summer, and take it outside.

                Christmas was the best part of my childhood.  I didn’t get whipped or yelled at during Christmas, probably because I was on my best behavior.  The person who came up with the whole “Santa Claus is watching you” thing had to be a mom with a house full of kids.

                I’m sure the same is true for the “Elf on a Shelf” concept.  For those of you who don’t know about this relatively new concept, the parents place a “magical” elf somewhere in the house at the beginning of the holiday season.  The elf watches the children all day then reports back to Santa that night before returning the next morning to a new location in the house, convincing the kids that he really is a magical elf, watching for less-than-acceptable behavior.

                Just like the Santa concept, there are two different views on the “Elf on the Shelf.”  One view sees the elf as a harmless, magical experience that the children and parents can share.  The other view is a criticism that sees the elf as another “nanny cam” (Hank Stuever, Washington Post) or worse, a conditioning of children to accept being spied upon, not entitled to privacy, leading eventually to the acceptance of a Big Brother state in which people are watched and reported to the government (Professor Laura Pinto, “Who’s the Boss?” Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives).

                Personally, I grew up being told on all the time, and I wouldn’t want one, but that’s just me.  We live in America.  Everyone is free to raise their children as they see fit.

                When my granddaughter, Sabria, was five years old, she came out into the front yard where I was hanging a bird feeder and said, “Gee, I want you to promise me you will never, ever, ever get an “Elf on a Shelf!”  (If you had known Sabria at five, you would have understood her concern.)  As Sabria has grown older—she is currently seven, almost eight—she has talked to her friends and her siblings who live with her dad, and she has decided she kind of likes the little guy.  I suspect she feels a kindred spirit with the elf.  Let me explain.

                Sabria’s dad and stepmom have an elf, and their elf is a rascal.  When the family gets up in the morning, their elf has been busy making a hop-scotch board on the dining room floor or wrapping himself around the angel on the Christmas tree or my personal favorite, plastering selfies all over the walls, mirrors and even inside the refrigerator.  If Sabria were an elf, that’s exactly how she would behave.

                Sabria begged her mom, my daughter, Natalie, for an “Elf on a Shelf” this year, but her mom won’t let her have one.  Sabria also begged me for one, but I have always told Sabria I will not go against her mother’s wishes, even though it’s killing me not to get her something she really wants.  Natalie says the “Elf on a Shelf” is creepy.  She chose instead to put an Elvis bobble head on the living room mantle, so now Sabria has Elvis on a shelf.  Somehow, I don’t think it will be the same.