The Red Sweater

I have long ago outgrown the excitement of receiving Christmas gifts.  I have NOT outgrown the delight of giving them.  I absolutely love having an excuse to give gifts to the people I love.  I will use any excuse to send a little something to grandchildren...Halloween, Valentine’s Day, the beginning of the school year, good grades at the end of the school year, going on a trip…sometimes, no reason at all.  So, being able to select Christmas gifts that my family members will enjoy is great joy to me!

But, I do remember a Christmas gift I received with great disappointment, which I had to suppress.

The year I was twelve, my mother was pregnant with my youngest brother.  To my knowledge, her pregnancy with me was the only uneventful one.  Two pregnancies had ended in miscarriage and two had resulted in blood clots in her legs which caused her to be bedridden most of the pregnancy.  This would not be the case now.  One of my daughters apparently inherited the problem and was able to continue living normally by self-injecting heparin every day.  My mother had to stay in bed.  This caused huge changes in my life…more responsibility than I was used to and much less focus on my needs.

My brother was born in January, so when Christmas came, Mom was confined to bed and unable to shop for gifts.  She gave my dad a list, and as she put it, “he did the best that he could.”  Just before the holiday, she said she needed to talk to me.  I had asked for a red cardigan sweater.  Dad had purchased a red cardigan, but it was the wrong size…. way too big.  My mother asked me to say ‘thank you’ and not let him know it was too big.  She did not want him to feel he had failed in his assignment when he had tried to do the right thing.  There was no time to exchange it, and I suspect he was feeling overwhelmed.

So, Christmas came, and the gifts were given, and the sweater was huge, and I said ‘thank you.’  Since it was my main gift, I choked back some tears and put on a happy face.  I was grateful that my dad had tried.  I don’t think I ever felt quite the same about Christmas gifts after that.  I began to develop a more grown-up perspective.

Christmas did indeed come, whether or not I was delighted with my gifts.  There were still decorations, and cookies, and wonderful music, and family get-togethers, AND oh yes, Jesus had come!  All the trappings of Christmas just set the mood.  The real event is that God sent His son into the world to be my Savior.  What a gift!  No disappointment!

I eventually grew into the red sweater.

I also grew into the realization that giving is much more fun than getting.