Tis the Season....

As I get older, I have come to appreciate the month of November a little more. I think it is because the Thanksgiving holiday comes around and we are all reminded to take a day to enjoy family and friends and to truly take a moment of gratitude for the things that we have in this life. It also marks the beginning of the Christmas season, a time of year when the entire world is supposed to come together in love, peace and the spirit of giving. Unfortunately, we seem to forget what the season is truly about.

 Now, for you Christians out there, I am not referring to the birth of Jesus. After all, he was most likely born in July anyway. I am referring to the idea of GIVING—NOT GETTING. I know as a kid we get all excited making out our Christmas lists so that Santa will know exactly what we want. I know as a child I was somewhat spoiled in this arena. After all, I can’t remember one thing that I asked for and did not get. But then again, I was taught at an early age to be grateful for any gift that was given to me whether it was on my list or not. Remember that saying “it’s the thought that counts?” Well, think that if someone gives you a gift, they were thinking of you, and probably fondly.  Did you ever hand the gift back and say “what made you think I wanted this?” No, because it is rude and selfish.

This past weekend, my family had our Christmas gathering. Our tradition consists of drawing names of others on the opposite side of our family so we are not burdened by buying so many gifts. The adults do this, but when it comes to the children, we actually all buy them gifts. This year, we had only 4 children to buy for, one being less than a year old. As most of us opened maybe one or two gifts from our family members, these children were going through as many as 7 and 8 gifts, not bothering to check labels or names to see who gave them what. And then at the end of it all, my niece decides that what she got was not enough because the younger one in the bunch received a poster booklet that she wanted. It wasn't enough that she got a microscope, a telescope, clothes, gift cards, a chemistry set, candy—she wanted to know why she did not get that poster booklet. What she didn't know is that she was to get one on Christmas Day. But it was way more important that she got it now. I was disappointed because the only one who said anything to her was me and her grandfather.  After all, she never said thank you to me for her present.

And then, there is my work place. As a grade level, we have decided to do secret Santa this year. I drew the name of a teacher I love and respect a great deal and was very excited to give her some gifts. I picked them out based on a list that she made. On the first day, she complained that she hadn't received anything. The problem was I wasn't able to get the present to her without her knowing it was me. The second and third days, I sent a gift to her but there was a mix up and someone else got it. Each day, I had to hear how disappointed she was that her secret Santa had only given her one gift. I watched this teacher—an adult mind you—pitch the same fit that my 10 year old niece threw. The next day, I made sure she got the gift with a note attached:

“I am terribly sorry that there was a mix-up and you did not get the gifts that were for you. Please accept these gifts with my sincerest apologies. I know how you love secret Santa and you deserve better.”

Do you think I was overly dramatic?

Anyway, I believe that the whole idea of giving gifts should be that you want to give this person something because you like them, respect them, want to show them that you are in their heart for whatever reason—whether you love them as a lover, friend, or colleague. When I give a gift, I do not expect one in return. I don’t think I am owed anything.  I just want the person to know that I have thought of them. To me, that is the truest gift of all. I mean, did the Wisemen actually expect the 9 lb 2 oz baby Jesus to give them something back? Ugh.

Second Guessing and Unintentional Lessons

Most days, I doubt that I am teaching my kids enough. I stand at the top of this room and look out over those faces and worry.Worry that I am letting them down. They are so young and seem to know so little.

Then occasionally, I have a bright idea. This time, I assigned them to write a biographical essay on someone that they know who has had to persevere. This was not meant to be a hard topic or even a deep one. The assignment was pretty simple too: interview a person, convert the interview into an essay.

Now any writing assignment for these kids is actually not that easy--well, not from my end. It seems as though getting words on paper is like pulling teeth. They don't know where to start--a thesis statement is somewhat foreign to them. But most of them try very hard.

My reward for this assignment comes when the kids realize things about their parents or loved ones that they did not know before. Perhaps they didn't know that raising kids was a hard job, that divorce isn't easy on parents either. That even though the students are expected to go to college, the parents dreams are unrealized because their children came first.

One afternoon, I sat with a student as he tried to put his introductory paragraph together. He was struggling with how to describe his own father, who has been in a wheel chair for a while. I started asking him questions about how his dad did day to day things that he took for granted. The student just looked up at me and said "you know, I never really paid any attention to it. Maybe I should start."

And then I realize I have taught them something unintentionally, and those are the best lessons.