Christmas Memory

Although Christmastime was always full of wonderful traditions, memories, and feelings, there is one Christmas in particular that always stands out in my mind.

I was thirteen. My father was the bishop of our Ward at the time and had been unemployed for quite a few months already when Christmas was approaching. I could see that my parents were worried about how they would provide a Christmas for 6 children on such a limited budget. I wished I could help in some way.

I had a paper route at the time and realized that I had the only completely discretionary income in my family at the time. I figured if I went without lunch and saved my lunch money and used my paper route money for 2 months, I could probably save enough to secretly provide some gifts for my family members. I don’t think I enjoyed my paper route so much than I did in those next wintery weeks. There was a lot of planning to do, and I took those quiet cold mornings to plan my secret mission. I had to think of 8 gifts that were personal and desired, but secret wishes so that no one else would have already provided them. How was I to purchase the gifts in secret without a driver’s license? Where would I hide the gifts? How could I write the tags without anyone recognizing my handwriting?

I gradually found solutions to all my obstacles and went ahead with my plan. I recruited a close friend of mine to hide the gifts at her house until I got a place cleaned out in the drawer under my bed for them. She had beautiful handwriting, so I had her write the tags that went along with my gifts. I would walk home from school so that I could stop by her house for our secret business meetings- never lasting too long as to peak my mom’s suspicion.

In December, my parents sat us down to prepare us for a humble Christmas as we were short on money. As we all listened respectfully, I looked at my siblings’ faces and tried my best to hide the fluttering in my heart as I knew something they didn’t.

It was really neat to watch the windows of heaven open in our family’s behalf that Christmas. We were the subject of many service projects and acts of selfless giving. So much so, that my parents began to feel uncomfortable receiving so much while knowing there were so many others in our Ward that were in greater need. We were able to take some of what we received and re-distribute it to those that we knew were also struggling. What a neat experience to be able to receive such acts of love AND be able to return it all in the same year.

Christmas Eve was here. I was prepared. I had kept my secret and my plan had flowed smoothly. All I had to do was wait till the right moment to deliver my secret Santa gifts. I was so excited I just couldn’t sleep. I laid awake in my bed listening for the slightest sound. I had to make sure that everyone was asleep…even my parents. Then, I had to be sneaky enough as not to wake anyone as I moved my gifts from my secret hiding place to under the tree. The moment had arrived. I tip-toed to my door, turned the knob with such spy-skill there was no sound to be heard. Avoiding the creaky places in the floor, I made sure that the house was all at rest. Santa had already arrived. Perfect. I returned to my room to retrieve the gifts and delivered them under the tree in a random way.

Christmas morning was such a treat. As my siblings entered the living room, they all uttered “ooh’s” and “aw’s” that there seemed to be just as many gifts as there were every year. It was a miracle! Mom and Dad seemed to show the same surprise as they sleepily came up the stairs. We took turns, as tradition, opening our gifts so we can all see what everyone received and to enjoy their reaction. I don’t remember what I gave or what I got that year, but I do remember watching my parents’ looks of confusion whenever one of my “secret” gifts was opened. My mom would say “Who is that from?” “The tag says ‘Santa’.” was the reply. She’d look at my dad who would return a blank stare and the next child would start to open their gift. Her surprise seemed to grow with each secret gift. I could see my Mother dying to know who was responsible. She started looking to us for answers, as most of us were old enough to understand her situation. I had to use all of my Orton straight-face skill as I was loosing control of my giggles on the inside. Of course none of us knew, which made me secretly leap for joy a little higher with each gift as my mom grew more and more perplexed.

I kept my Christmas secret with me for probably 15 years until one Sunday we were reminiscing about that experience. After all that time, no one had figured out who was responsible, and so I shared my little secret that had given me so much joy over the years. I felt that year, Christmas was so magical and full of miracles, and I loved being a part of it. I feel like our family was so blessed that year because our father was the bishop and such a faithful servant of the Lord. I feel like I was blessed with increased love for my family members and awareness of their personal needs as I focused my thoughts on trying to fill those needs and make their Christmas a special one. I learned that year, that when you immerse yourself in the act of thoughtful, anonymous giving is when you feel the most magic, the most love, and the most happiness.