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HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS
One of my favorite true Christmas stories came to me from a friend, the late Belle Stoddard.
Here’s how it goes:
When Gedney Howe was a little boy, his favorite companion was an elderly neighbor everybody simply called, “Frasier.”
Frasier loved Gedney and was often making toys for him or giving him other presents.
One day, Frasier proudly presented Gedney with a beautiful, most unusual type of seashell.
Everyone was impressed, especially the child. Gedney’s grandfather, Chief, recognized the shell as one that could be found only on Edisto Island, a very long way from where they lived in Charleston.
Chief asked, “Why, Frasier, however did you find this here in town?”
Frasier patiently explained that he had not gotten the shell in town. He had found it on the island. Back then, there was little private–and no public–transportation available.
Chief asked whether Frasier had caught a ride.
“No, sir, I walked all the way and back.”
Chief exclaimed, in amazement, “Why that must’ve been fifty miles.”
“Well,” Frasier said, “I caught a ride part way, but the long walk was part of the gift.”
***
This is the kind of story that sticks with me and re-surfaces every Christmas.
I suppose it resonates because my mother always monitored my attitudes about giving and receiving. She made sure we kids understood that the act of giving, the effort and care expended in gift-searching, gift-wrapping, gift-offering, were all part and parcel of the gift itself.
Mom had no tolerance for anyone who complained about the quality or price or brand-name or appropriateness of a gift received.
To this day, each time I am presented a gift, I hesitate before removing the wrapping. I re-imagine Mother’s lesson about gifts, Frasier’s lesson about gifts.
I try to imagine what must have gone through the mind of the giver. I try to appreciate the fact that receiving a gift at all is somewhat miraculous, considering all the people in all the world who are not being remembered and gifted this Christmas.
In the altar of my mind, I hold the unopened gift up to the beaming faces of Santa and Mother and Frasier and everybody else who remembers with love somebody besides themselves on special occasions.
Then, all ceremony aside, I return to earth and tear into the package, looking for the object that represents the gift-giver’s kindness and generosity.
And here’s my gift to you:
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
© 2018 A.D. by Jim Reed
http://www.jimreedbooks.com/podcast