When I was growing up, my family was not wealthy, middle class and not even upper middle class. But I was raised in a family that truly believed and lived the motto that it is better to give than to receive. It is not just a Christmas phenomenon, or even linked to any other holiday for that matter. My family, well more precisely my mother’s family, were just givers. Not every gift was a “thing” in the traditional sense of the word. Once when it had rained for three days my mother got on the phone and called the other young moms in the neighborhood and went around in her station wagon collecting everyone’s wet diapers. I was raised in a time before disposable diapers so women had to wash stacks of white cloths practicallyeveryday and with rain there was no way to dry them on the traditional clothesline. My mom had one of the first dryers in our neighborhood so she took in everyone’s washed, but wet, diapers and dried them in her turquoise, Frigidaire dryer. She folded them, stacked them and tied each bundle with a ribbon just for effect and took them back that afternoon to the much appreciative mothers.

Sometimes she would collect all the kids in the neighborhood as they got off the school bus and take them all in to our house to decorate sugar cookies she had baked...dozens and dozens of them. She made what must have been three or four gross of cookies that day. Many would go to the school PTA for after the Christmas pageant, but each child took home a plate full of cookies to their parents. Oh and by the way...not a weird thing because she set it up with all the moms in advance so that they could go Christmas shopping or wrap presents without the kids for an afternoon. A gift.

Holidays were always magical. The anticipation would build before any holiday as we would decorate the house...Valentine’s Day, Easter, July 4th, Thanksgiving, Christmas all had their own special decorations and each year more were added. Holidays were big in our house. And perhaps not quite as big in our house now, they are still celebrated and decorated probably beyond necessary, or even reasonable, levels. At least sometimes.

Christmas was especially exciting. Who doesn’t get excited about Santa coming, the Christmas tree, presents, toys, and just the sound of the music? There would be presents under the tree beginning about two weeks out from Christmas...small at first, odd ones, not many but enough to make the search under the tree every day after school a wonderful experience to see what was new and if it was for you. Sometimes yes, sometimes it was for your brother, but still something new. Most of these presents were actually for other people. Teachers, the Principal, Dad’s boss, Grandma or Granddad. These were not from Santa, those came on Christmas eve, to be seen for the first time on Christmas morning. There was an ebb and flow to the presents under out tree. Some went out to the teachers or principal others got mailed or boxed up for delivery to the extended family at the Family Christmas dinner, but as they left, others would make their way under the tree.

Christmas morning was magical...Santa came, still does by the way,...the tree would be lit with magic lights when we came down the hall of our 50’s ranch style house to the living room, a sign that Santa had been there. And it was the magic of this sight that remains in my memory today.

When our kids were little we no longer had the big family Christmas dinner, it stopped when my Grandmother died. But the tree, the decorations, the anticipation were all there. The tree would be piled with gifts, some big, some small, but enough to make you think that Santa could not possibly get them all in his sleigh. This is not to say we forgot the reason for the Holiday...on the contrary that too was part of the tradition and decorations. Church on Christmas Eve, mid-night mass for many years with the kids in tow. But this is a story about the magic of giving.

Birthdays were the same. They were your special day. The gifts from aunts and uncles, and grandparents were always fun to get and to open and there could be weeks of anticipation about birthday presents just as there was for Christmas.

The funny thing is that it is not the number of presents I remember of the image of a huge pile, it is the feeling of magic...of wonder...of amazement. We tried to pass that same thing along to our children. It is not what you get, it is what you give. To this day I am still, both genetically and by tradition, a giver. I am the guy who puts money into every bell ringers pot at Christmas. I give presents to people for no reason at all, anytime I feel like it. I think giving gifts is a great way to encourage, or affirm somebody. I give books, I give gift cards, I give any help I can to anyone who asks. I’m the guy who pays for the person behind me in the drive-up at Starbucks just because, not just at Christmas. The drive-up host at Starbucks told me that the gift I gave once led to an eight car follow-on...until someone had a big order of coffees for a meeting. I have paid for people’s groceries when they did not have enough money, I bought a set of tires for a church worker because someone asked me to help this person out. I just find that giving is a part of who I am. I give anonymously as much as I can. I don’t look for the recognition, I prefer not to have it if possible. I want to give because that is what I was taught, it is what was modeled to me growing up.

I know not everyone grows up that way. I know some people grow up without the means to do that. I know that some people by their nature are just not givers, it is not that they dislike people and if asked to help they would probably do so. But to just give is not in their nature. Cheers to them. They are who they are by God’s grace. But I am who I am also.