Beech Tree News Network

One of the best Christmas shopping experiences I’ve ever had happened with my granddaughter, Sabria, when she was much younger.  I’m usually the one put in charge of helping her pick out gifts for her mom, dad, stepmom, siblings and other grandparents.  I remember pushing her around in the shopping cart and letting her choose a gift for each person.  She was so spontaneous in her choices, and she never second-guessed a decision.

We were in Owensboro that year, visiting my sister, Marsha.  I took Sabria to Hobby Lobby, and I still remember her reaction to the store.  It was like taking a kid to visit Santa’s workshop at the North Pole.  I have the resin cat she picked out for Aggie, Garey’s mom, before she passed.  It is part of a collection of items that will stay with her in her own home.

Sabria is a sentimental little person, a lot like Aggie was.  (Her mom thinks she borders on being an all-out hoarder.)  Sabria’s memories are important to her, and like most sentimental people, she attaches memories to tangible things.  

As I watch the fires that have devastated the West this Christmas, I can’t help thinking that besides the monetary loss they represent, there is also the loss of things, which results in the displacement of memories.  Yes, these people who have lost everything, still have their lives and the lives of those they love, but they have nothing to hold in their hands, nothing to point to that shows they were ever here.

We hear a lot about how material things don’t make Christmas, and for some part that’s true.  However, material things represent giving, sharing, and even sacrificing.  Look at the toy drives for disadvantaged children, the coat drives for the homeless, the fruit baskets for the elderly.  The Christmas season pulls you outside of yourself and says, “Hey, look over here.  There’s someone who needs help, and you can give something that will help them.

Yes, Christmas is about more than just stuff, but that stuff can’t be discounted.  I still have the Sears Silver Tone guitar I got for Christmas when I was thirteen.  I can’t see a cap pistol without remembering the year that my two younger sisters and I got cowgirl outfits, complete with hats and cap pistols.  Because I mostly had only necessary clothing, I will never forget the knee-high boots I got for Christmas when I was a junior in high school.  It felt so good to fit in.  Looking back, I understood at the time that those gifts meant sacrifice on my parents’ part.

So, at least some of the stuff we get for Christmas is more than just stuff.  Some gifts are really gifts.  They represent another person’s recognition of who you are, your recognition of who they are, and you will hold onto those things until you’re gone, and who knows?  Maybe, they will be gifted to another person who values them just as much as you have.