The Joy of Christmas Read online

  Joe passed away a week before Christmas in 2012.

  I still put one special gift for him under the tree that year… a small set of plastic toy soldiers.

  ~Sally A. Breslin

  Operation Christmas Thank You

  There are no strangers on Christmas Eve.

  ~Adele Comandini and Edward Sutherland, Beyond Tomorrow

  It was October and we were attending the fire hall’s open house with our five-year-old son Isaiah and three-year-old daughter Angeleaha. Isaiah stood in awe of the massive yellow trucks, with all of their shiny chrome and interesting gadgets. The fire-fighters were more than happy to answer his many questions about each piece of equipment. He fidgeted with his plastic firefighter’s hat as he studied the collection of scale models in the large glass display case in the office. “When do you get to play with those?” he asked the accompanying firefighter.

  The firefighter hid his amusement as he answered very solemnly. “We don’t get to play with them. The chief keeps them locked away in that cabinet.”

  Isaiah was lost in thought as we walked home that evening.

  Halloween came and went, as did Remembrance Day. With colder weather setting in, our thoughts turned to Christmas. It was important to us to keep the true spirit of Christmas at the forefront of our holiday activities. The last thing we wanted was our children seeing Christmas as a commercial event.

  We sat the two children down and explained that there were many children that didn’t have the same things they did. Some children didn’t have a mommy or daddy, enough food to eat, or new toys to play with at Christmas. We explained that Santa Claus sometimes needed a bit of help from Christmas Ambassadors to provide gifts or food for those in need.

  Both children listened very intently. Isaiah’s eyes shone! “Can we take presents to the firefighters? Santa doesn’t visit the fire station and they aren’t allowed to play with all those fire trucks! We can take them toys to play with on Christmas!”

  At first we didn’t know how to respond. We had long since forgotten about the model fire trucks in the display case at the fire hall! Apparently Isaiah had not. His dad cleared his throat. “Well, that is a good idea, but they don’t really have time to play with toys because they are too busy keeping us safe from fires at Christmas.”

  Isaiah became very serious; he knew his dad was right. Being a firefighter was a very important job. Angeleaha had been sitting quietly playing with some blocks. “Candy… they want candy,” she said quietly.

  I looked at my husband. “Not quite what we had in mind,” I said.

  “It’s not a bad idea though,” he replied.

  That first year we set out on Christmas Eve, led on foot by our two children to the fire hall, police station and paramedic stations to deliver boxes of chocolates. The kids were given a warm welcome at each stop and a tour of the units and their trucks.

  As the children grew, the operation matured. We added coffee, lunch, dessert trays, and candies. We began deliveries to the Ontario Provincial Police and the hospital emergency room, too — six emergency response locations in total. We began taking photographs and posting to a Facebook page in hopes that others would start the campaign in their own cities.

  We have five children now, and the fourth was born with a serious medical problem. For the first time we fully understood and appreciated the role of emergency services in a very personal way. During one medical emergency, which occurred during a blizzard, we had to call an ambulance to take Nathaniel to the hospital as he screamed in pain. The roads were too dangerous to navigate, but the paramedics still came, and they got us to the hospital safely.

  Then on December 18th, 2014, while crossing the street, a car hit my husband and me. The car had slammed into me first, sending me scraping across the pavement several feet before coming to a stop. My husband had been picked up and thrown onto the hood by impact. A fire truck was first on scene, and I was helped onto the truck step, shaking and crying. Firefighters kept me talking, making sure I was coherent until paramedics arrived on scene.

  I was helped onto a stretcher and rolled into the ambulance, where one soft-spoken paramedic assessed my vitals and provided me with ice packs for my bruises. The other paramedic climbed in the driver’s seat and called back, “These are the parents of the kids who bring us goodies on Christmas Eve!”

  I was shocked. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t think we were recognizable, and I really didn’t view what our children were doing as anything out of the ordinary. We were saying thank you, showing our appreciation.

  Our first little Christmas elves, Isaiah and Angeleaha, are now teenagers. They raise money each year to pay for the treats that they and their siblings deliver to all our first responders.

  This year will be our twelfth Operation Christmas Thank You. It’s the highlight of our family’s Christmas.

  ~Danielle Kuhn

  The Best Luxury of All

  Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love!

  ~Hamilton Wright Mabie

  My friend Nell was feeling guilty one year during the holiday season. She was throwing away the solicitations for donations that arrived in the mail from various good causes because she was saving her money to spend on gifts.

  Then she remembered a piece of advice she had read somewhere: “If you want to give away money, go to the bank, take out as much cash as you can afford, and distribute it to people on the street.”

  This appealed to Nell. Nearly every day, she saw homeless people and others in need. But she never paid much attention as she whizzed by in her car, and she even crossed the street to avoid the scary-looking ones when she was walking.

  Nell thought about her “Fiver Envelope.” Whenever she received a five-dollar bill as change in a transaction, she saved it. After gathering a bunch, she would treat herself to a massage or some other luxury. She decided to take the one hundred dollars she’d accumulated and give it away.

  Nell found her first beneficiary one early cold morning at the post office. A dented maroon car, the back bumper tied on with a rope and stuffed with clothing, pulled into a parking space. A weary woman struggled to get out of the vehicle and up the post office steps.

  Nell pulled a five from her wallet and folded it in half. When the woman entered the building, Nell asked, “May I give you something?”

  The woman looked wary as Nell held out the money. “Why?”

  “Because it’s Christmas.”

  The woman took the money. “That’s it? For no other reason?”

  Nell said, “Yes,” and wished her a Merry Christmas.

  “Thank you so much.”

  Nell felt very happy.

  Next was a young wispy woman wrapped in layers of clothing to stave off the cold rain. She was walking with a black Pit Bull that wore a padded doggie jacket. Nell pulled to the curb and got out of her car. “May I give you something?”

  Again a wary look.

  Nell held out a five.

  The woman grinned, and then looked close to tears. “I’m so glad I turned around and started walking this way. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met you.” She gave Nell a hug.

  A few days later, Nell was walking to her car in the grocery store parking lot. She noticed a woman putting her baby in a car seat in a dented pickup truck.

  As Nell held out her offering, the woman backed away. “I shouldn’t take it.”

  Nell reached her hand out further. “Please, I want to give it to you.”

  “Thank you. I really do need gas money.” She invited Nell to the live nativity scene produced by one of the local churches on Christmas Eve. She said her baby would be playing the role of Jesus. She blessed Nell as she walked away.

  A few days later, Nell saw a middle-aged woman fishing through a public trashcan. When she gave her five dollars, the woman beamed. “Thank you. It’s my birthday.”

  Nell’s heart soared. “Happy birthday, my dear!”

  Every time Nell gave away money
, she felt immense joy. Most of the interactions took less than a minute, but during that time she was able to look a person in the eyes, touch his or her hand and, in a few instances, receive a hug. This was so much better than using all those saved five-dollar bills for a massage.

  She gave away her last five to someone she saw frequently — a tall, lean man who appeared to be homeless. He wore a camouflage jacket and walked a dog with a matching brindle coat.

  It was shortly after the New Year and raining when Nell spotted him. He was walking so fast that she pulled a block ahead so that she could intercept him.

  She wasn’t sure how he would react because he seemed so self-contained, as if he preferred to be alone.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He returned the greeting with a surprising twinkle in his eyes.

  “May I give you something?” She held out the folded bill.

  “Are you serious?” he asked.

  “Yes, please, I want to give it to you.”

  He grinned. “Thank you.”

  She had never been close to him. She looked at his face — really looked at it — and saw a kind man in his forties with warm, dark brown eyes. She reached down and petted his dog, grateful that he had a companion. Why he was alone was a mystery, but she was glad to make a connection with this nice man.

  “Happy New Year.” As the words left her mouth, she regretted them. They sounded hollow and trite given his situation.

  “Happy New Year to you,” he said, leaving her with the gift of his smile.

  ~Kate Erickson

  Gratitude Gave Grief a Holiday

  Only by giving are you able to receive more than you already have.

  ~Jim Rohn

  Steve passed away in September, and I wondered how I would survive the holidays without him. The Christmas décor that showed up in the stores after Halloween was a harsh reminder that Christmas would be very different this year.

  Steve and I had always practiced year-round philanthropy, and even more so around the holidays. Donating to charity, “adopting” those in need, and participating in various fundraisers was a longtime family tradition, but that year, I didn’t feel like celebrating, much less shopping. I was lost without my soul mate and repeatedly asked our two adult sons, “What are we going to do?”

  Soon the charitable solicitations began to arrive and I dreaded what would follow — the announcements of the fundraisers in which we had always taken part. Writing a check would be easy, but contributing anything that required my involvement seemed impossible.

  Friends and family offered their support and kindness as the holidays approached, and I was able to focus a little more on my own blessings. We had always been the givers, not the receivers, at Christmastime.

  And then I finally realized something. The best way I could get through the holidays was to continue Steve’s legacy and do what he would have done if he were still here.

  The first thing I did was continue our tradition of “adopting” someone from our local senior services organization. It only took a brief call to get the wish list of a local senior citizen who had no family or financial resources. Shopping anonymously for someone I didn’t know brought a bit of joy back into my life. It was fun to anticipate how surprised my adoptee would be when she received all the items on her wish list instead of just one. I felt a little like my old self — I was shopping again and enjoying it!

  The second opportunity to participate in helping others was more difficult. For years, Steve and I had made gingerbread creations for the Big Brothers/Big Sisters annual fundraiser. This was an important tradition to us, and as soon as we entered the competition each year we would lay out the plans for the next year. Steve had decided that we would make Noah’s Ark this year. My eyes moistened as I held the invitation to the fundraiser, thinking that the Ark would never be made now.

  I was about to toss the invitation in the trash, but then I changed my mind. Our older son liked to make his own gingerbread creations for the event, so I saved it for him.

  Later, when I handed Chris the invitation, he immediately said, “Mom, we need to do Dad’s idea for the whimsical Noah’s Ark.” And thus began our collaboration. It was so much fun creating the animal characters Steve had envisioned. I laughed at Chris’s suggestion to “put the skunks at the very back of the ark away from all the rest.” It was just what Steve would have done!

  In the end, I was so grateful to my son for insisting that we make Steve’s Ark a reality, especially when it won third place and sold for the highest bid of the night to help the organization. And, we were also both surprised and humbled when the gingerbread festival that year was dedicated to Steve.

  There was then another unexpected, wonderful and generous surprise for us. Steve’s company created an annual “Steve Julian Award” for employees who demonstrated his same outstanding service to their clients and coworkers. My family was invited to the annual luncheon at which this coveted award is now presented each year. How grateful we were that others wanted to honor Steve’s memory too!

  I learned much that year, especially that generosity is always reciprocated, whether by another person’s kindness or by the simple feeling it creates for the giver. But my most important lesson was that being grateful for one’s blessings, and sharing them with others is sometimes the best way to regain a little happiness.

  ~Vicki L. Julian

  The First Gifts of Christmas

  How beautiful a day can be when kindness touches it!

  ~George Elliston

  For the last two months, Duke Medical Center in Chapel Hill, North Carolina had been our home while my husband Randy received treatment for an inoperable brain tumor. In early December Randy underwent his final radiation treatment and we received clearance from his doctors to return home to Kentucky. I knew this would be our last Christmas together.

  There wasn’t much joy or Christmas spirit in my heart as our long journey ended and we entered our neighborhood that cold and snowy December night. But then I glimpsed a bit of yellow ribbon tied to a tree, fluttering in the wind, and then I saw another yellow ribbon tied to a tree in the next yard, and then another and another… an avenue of yellow ribbons welcomed us as we slowly drove down our street.

  As we pulled into our driveway we saw a “Welcome Home” sign adorning the garage door. Fresh pine garland and ribbon trimmed the mailbox and the outdoor lights. Christmas candles glowed warmly in every window of our home.

  Dazed, we opened the front door, stepped inside and found Christmas waiting for us. The tree, beautifully lit, stood in its place by the window. The ornaments, waiting to be hung, filled a basket under its limbs. Ribbon and pine graced the mantel and all of our Christmas decorations were lovingly and perfectly placed throughout our home. As Randy and I walked, virtually speechless from room to room, we discovered small Christmas gifts, bearing our names, tucked here and there throughout the house and the refrigerator and freezer filled with casseroles and fruit.

  Rather than coming home and frantically pulling the Christmas boxes and bins out of the attic and simultaneously unpacking our suitcases, Randy and I spent our first morning at home leisurely watching it snow, drinking hot cocoa and hanging ornaments on our tree. We wrapped Christmas gifts, made soup, and sat by the fire holding hands reminiscing about Christmases long ago. The selfless love of our friends who gathered together and readied our home for our return served as a loving reminder of the true spirit of Christmas. These friends gave the best of themselves — their most precious gifts of time and talent and love — and there are no sweeter gifts than those.

  ~Shannon Erickson

  Table for Eight

  Friends are family you choose for yourself.

  ~Author Unknown

  What do you do on Christmas when your family is far away? My husband and I didn’t have any family nearby, so the holidays always made me feel a little lonely.

  Then one year, I had a thought: “Let’s throw a party!” We had friends who weren’
t going to see their families either. So why not fix a meal and create a new tradition? I could already picture the meal. A traditional menu of turkey filled with cornbread stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole and all the fixings. Just like my aunt used to make. It probably wouldn’t be as delicious as my aunt’s cooking, but I sure could give it a try.

  My husband loved the idea. We got excited. We made a list: turkey, potatoes, yams, pumpkin pie, and appetizers, too. Nothing was too good for our adopted holiday family. It would be a night of good food, old and new friends, and most important… new traditions.

  Hesitantly, we invited friends. We knew the holidays brought out mixed emotions in people. Our list grew larger. Two, three — eventually we had a party of eight people. We wondered if we’d be able to fit everyone in our tiny dining room. Did we even have enough plates? In our enthusiasm we hadn’t thought of that.

  “Who cares?” my husband proclaimed. “That’ll be part of the memory.”

  Christmas quickly arrived. We got busy cooking, decorating and before long we were no longer pretending to be happy about the holidays. We actually were happy. In our excitement we had prepared a virtual feast compared to our normal dinner of Top Ramen or tuna melts. The smell of turkey wafted from the oven as we nibbled on deviled eggs and waited for our guests to arrive. “Let’s hope they all come hungry. Actually let’s hope they come at all!” It was already ten minutes after their scheduled arrival time and no one had shown up.

  As the first guest arrived, we let out a huge sigh of relief. She wasn’t even expected, as she had planned to fly home. “Is it still okay if I come? I thought I’d be at my parents.” We welcomed her in.

  Soon our cramped apartment became cozy with people. Friends introduced themselves to each other, former strangers united for a day. Laughter and love filled our home. Thankfully everyone showed up. The only one dissatisfied with the arrangement was our cat. A noted loner, he made a beeline to his favorite spot in the bedroom and wanted no part of anything. Even a smidgeon of turkey didn’t lure him out. We joked that we needed a Scrooge for Christmas and this year it was him. We’d make sure to give him extra attention once everyone went home. And catnip! After all, it was Christmas and he deserved a treat too.