I Am This Woman

After reading this Best of Holidailies recently, I’ve been thinking about how gift-giving happens in our family, with my Santa-believing, starry-eyed-over-Christmas kid.

Back in the olden days, when the Kid was a baby, it was absolutely true that you could give him a box and he was happy. Our first Christmas together was lovely because I suddenly had a (then) high-paying job and a fabulous toy store just across the street from work (Terra Toys). I of course went nuts - from guilt and a sense of new-job entitlement. This child was growing up without benefit of a second parent (at that time), so naturally the gorgeous sanded wood blocks from Sweden, the little nesting alphabet boxes, the perfectly symmetrical high-quality plastic doodads were his. I would have gotten him a pony, maybe, if we hadn’t been living in an apartment. But when it came down to Christmas Eve, all he needed was a warm set of arms and breasts, a warm house and the circle of love that surrounded him.

As the years have gone by, he has never asked for much, and what he does ask Santa for specifically usually had “Lego” in front of it. He has always gotten a lot more than asked for (because I love giving), and as always, has enjoyed playing with the box as much as the toy (except in the case of Lego which packages things in completely destructible boxes and plastic bags).

And as the years have gone by, I have kept up a running dialogue about who gave him what, what we were giving to whom, and how much money we would send to our charity. Some years, we could only collect up some clothes and toys and take them to the thrift store “for the children who don’t have enough clothes or toys, or so the people who take care of those children can keep their jobs.” Or something like that.

There have been countless times, as any mother will attest, that some random object has become a treasure – cradled and studied in a little starfish hand, and then handed over to Mom with wonder. “Dis for yew.” (Most recently, it was an acorn from the alley, and his pronunciation was much clearer: “Here mom, this is for you!”)

Many times, as he grew more articulate, he would get mad at some item of clothing or toy and say, “we’re giving that to the kids who don’t have toys because I.can’t.make.it.work! Maybe one of them can!” Basic understanding of the concept. Needs a little fine-tuning but not a problem.

This give and take was loosely based on my personal belief that a child who has been given nothing cannot learn how to give. And conversely, a child who is given everything and gives nothing to others only has a huge pile of crap in their room and a bad bad attitude.

This year, I see a marked difference. He is stoic about the lack of availability of the Wii.* He requested some Lego from Santa (in an email because duh, Santa does email now). It’s still his favorite time of year, and we continue to cope with the losses and changes in our lives. Because of or in spite of that, I’m seeing a grace and beauty in him.

Somehow, the message about giving has “taken.” Because the Kid has asked to go shopping by himself (with his own money, or the gift card from my employer) so he could buy his mother a present. He hid the package and then asked for paper to wrap it. It’s under the tree now.

At Bass Pro, shopping together, I was admiring the slippers I’ve been drooling over for years (shearling and leather, outdoor soles, ankle high). The Kid said, “Mom, I want to get those for you, but you have to pretend to be surprised on Christmas morning. And I need money to buy them.” Uh, I can do that.

So now, my two favorite presents under the tree are a small mysterious box and a shoe-sized not-so-mysterious box, both lovingly wrapped and taped and taped and taped, by an 11 year old boy who has learned to give.

A generous child. To paraphrase a famous spider web, “SOME KID.”

*(And there might just be a Wii on Santa’s sleigh. Or not. He’ll have to wait and see!)

This entry was posted on Saturday, December 22nd, 2007 at 3:54 pm and is filed under charity, holidays, the kid. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.