Well, as the words to my favorite secular holiday song go, "And so this is Christmas…and what have you done?"
Are you ready? Are you freaking out? Are you whining?
When I go visit my brother and his family, the older nephew and I get to go out on our own, and do our thing. Our thing consists of going to the "train store", which to normal people is just a regular big-box toy store, with a scary giraffe as the mascot. I'm sure you know the one I'm talking about. Anyway, the five year old nephew could care less about the other toys in the store…he only has eyes for trains, especially blue ones that are named after certain doubting Disciples. He is obsessed. He's had to be escorted out of the store, several times, by his parents…literally kicking and screaming. This kid LOVES, LURVES, LUUUUHUUUUHUVES, trains. He is, hands down, the easiest person in my family for whom to buy gifts.
I remember the first time we went to the train store, on our own, to pick out a new train. My brother pulled me aside and told me to call him if things got ugly. I looked at him like he'd gone crazy…and just nodded my head, remembering that small children are highly volatile and toys to kids are like chum in the water to sharks. I started to feel like I might not want to do this thing, after all. But I had promised. And I refuse to break promises, especially not to small children who look like me.
The nephew actually gave me directions to the store, from his backseat. As I pulled in, parked, and turned off the car, I turned around to look at the blue-eyed cherub. "Bilbo, we are going to go shop for a new train, buddy. I want you to remember something. We are going to share at the play table. And when it's time to leave, we are not going to whine or freak out. Ok? Now, what are we going to remember? " "We are gonna sare at the pway table. And we ah NOT going to whine or fweak out." And so, we got out of the car, and ventured into the gaping maw of the toy store. I felt like I might throw up.
Thirty minutes later, we came out of the store, all smiles, with our new "twain", and no tears. I was amazed. I felt like I must be the kid-whisperer, or something. As the nephew exclaimed over his present in the back seat, telling the new twain about all the other twain fwiends back da the house, I realized something. I was not magic. No, the success of the trip had to do with factors that were beyond my child-charming (bribery). We prepared ourselves for the trip. We knew what we were going to get. We were realistic about what the trip might look like. We hoped for the best, and were willing to be surprised by success.
That's nothing like what Christmas and present buying is like for most of us. At all. We do a lot of freaking out. We do a lot of whining. We forget to be realistic about our expectations for giving and receiving. And sometimes, on our not-so-great days, we have to be lead kicking and screaming away from the experience that should be nothing short of awesome. We are not willing to be surprised, and failure is an excuse for another glass of egg-nog or a bloody Mary.
The nephew and I have made several subsequent visits back to the twain store. There have been no fweak outs, no whining, no kicking and scweaming. There have been good conversations in the car, many questions asked and answered, and the bond between us grows stronger and stronger. I wonder what it would look like if you and I applied the principles of the twain store to Christmas, to time with our families, to giving and receiving gifts? I bet Christmas would be less whiny and freaky for all of us.
My prayer is that you and your families and your friends share a marvelous Advent and Christmas season, without whining or freak –outs, without fights over the train table, and with the full and incredible knowledge that a very small person, born very long ago, loves you, saves you, is coming back for you, and thinks you are the most wonderful gift in the world.
Mistletoe Kisses, and Candy Cane Wishes...
mil besos,
rmg
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