Christmas Story for the thread..............
I've been hit very hard by the market this year, like some of you. Perspective, perspective, perspective.
Mike's Christmas Envelopes
Just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree.
No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the
branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.
It began because my husband Mike hated the commercial aspects of Christmas:
overspending, the last-minute running around to get a tie for Uncle Harry
and the dusting powder for Grandma--gifts given in desperation because you
couldn't think of anything else. So one year I bypassed the usual shirts,
sweaters and ties, and I reached for something special just for Mike. The
inspiration came in an unusual way.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, had a wrestling match shortly before
Christmas--a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city
church. These youngsters, dressed in ragged sneakers, presented a sharp
contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling
new wrestling shoes. I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling
with no headgear to protect their ears--a luxury they obviously could not
afford. We ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each
of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around with false bravado, a
kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.
Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly. "I wish just one of them could
have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this
could take the heart right out of them." Mike always loved kids--all kids.
That's when I got the idea. That afternoon, I went to a sporting goods store
and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes, and sent them
anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the
envelope on the tree with a note inside telling Mike what I had done as my
gift to him. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and
in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition--one year
sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another
year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the
ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.
The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last
gift opened, and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with
wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to
reveal its contents. As the children grew, the envelope never lost its
allure.
The story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded
cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I
barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on
the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.
Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on
the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even
further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed
anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's
spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.
Action Point: Read this story out loud to your family. Gather everyone's
ideas for how you can express the true Christmas spirit this year, then
carry it out together. (And please, share your ideas with us.)
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