Stop running around like a maniac. Stop rushing into Target, Marshalls or the mall. Stop typing furiously for orders to Amazon and Etsy. Stop watching commercials and buying gift cards in bulk. Drop the tape, put down the credit card and the oven mitts covered in Christmas cookie dough and know this.
Everything you want you already have.
I’m not trying to guilt you into ‘no Christmas’. Heck, I love Christmas. I might love buying gifts more than I like breathing but I could have all the presents in the world and if I didn’t have my serene son Beau, my spunky delightful Donovan, my loyal and devoted husband Mike, or my diverse and extended group of family and friends then I’d have nothing no matter how many gaily wrapped presents I found under the tree.
No iPad or new pair of running shoes would make up for that.
Last week before the Christmas holidays I spent a night at my church feeding a group of homeless women. They were ragged and worn out and tired and cold and hungry – and they were sad but they were not without the Christmas Spirit.
They were women without homes, some of them without their children and without a Christmas tree or a coffee mug and but for the grace of God or whomever you put your faith in, go you and I.
And yet, they weren’t without hope.
They blessed me and gave me hugs for the Holiday season and showed me their Christmas pins and one held out a shirt she had bought for her father. Homeless and without anything more than a backpack to her name but carrying a camouflage shirt for dear old dad, she asked me if I would mail it for her.
She said she spent forever trying to find the perfect shirt and was now just happy to eat a good meal and send her pops a present.
So, stop that gift-wrapping. Stop working those extra hours so you can get your husband, your wife, your child, your mother – the very best, the brightest, the most expensive.
It’s not important.
Your mom will never be lying in her old person’s home clutching a Hermes bag you gave her for Hanukah.
Your dad will not be lying in a casket grateful for the cashmere sweater you gave him six Christmases ago.
Your child in his darkest moments won’t be clinging to a Leap Pad.
If you don’t do another thing this season other than love those around you, you have given the greatest gift you ever could – and every gift you get or give after that is just icing on the Christmas cookie, the star on top of the tree, or a really awesome and carefully picked camouflage shirt.
About Rebecca Suder