A Gift without Price

Although I will reach the age of 55 four days after Christmas this year, I find myself still very much in the mothering mode, having given birth to my first homemade baby at the age of 41. Because I was never able to have children, we were amazed and thrilled to learn shortly before Christmas that year of Merrie’s coming. She is now 13, and Evan, our second miracle baby, is now 10.

When Merrie was four years old—old enough to be caught up in the magic of Christmas for the first time—there was never mention made of gifts she might receive. She actually thought that Christmas was about Baby Jesus. Every day she happily drew pictures of the Nativity.

Indeed, she thought she was Mary and often acted in character. I remember her dressing up in her nightgown with a shawl draped over her head and shoulders, holding her doll, arranging herself on the floor near a Nativity set displayed in the bottom of our grandfather clock, a thoughtful, sweet, contemplative expression of wonder and awe on her face. “A King is born,” she would say softly.

But the world intruded the following year (okay, we allowed the world to intrude), and things have been different ever since, the focus of the children primarily being the anticipation they felt for the presents they would receive. How I yearn for a return to the simplicity of that one, wonderful Christmas before the children learned of all the things that distract from its true meaning!

It’s not that we spend a lot of money on Christmas presents. I purchase new or “like new” items all during the year on sale or at yard sales. Thus, I don’t go “Christmas shopping.” The effort and time it would take, fighting the crowds, driving in bad weather, spending big money—none of those things appeals to me. We simply gather the things I have collected throughout the year and select which items should be given to which person. Even so, I think our focus is too much on the presents.

I have a suggestion for gift giving—a gift without price that your posterity will treasure beyond measure. It is a gift that will keep on giving to your children and their children and their children—always.

This marvelous gift is you. It is your personal history. It is recalling and recording the events and emotions of your life. It is sharing the experiences that helped to shape you into the person you are. By sharing your life, you can touch their lives. They can learn from your insights. And they will understand and love you all the more.

I’m trying to get them to pass a law that you can’t die until you have written your life story. Yet, when one woman observed me writing in my journal, she stated, “I don’t understand all this journal writing. I don’t need to write it down; I’ve lived it!” I thought how sad that this kind and giving person held such a narrow view. She could not see the value of what she could give to future generations through preserving and passing on her own story.

If our life lessons remained with us alone, they would be of little value. Shared with others, however, the lessons we learn will help to lighten others’ burdens and will become of even greater worth. Material blessings are not the things we need to pass on to them. We need to share with them our experience, our insights, our love, our lives.

I think photos also add a great deal to one’s life history. One grandchild, upon seeing early photos of her grandparents, asked, “Was the world just black and white back then, Grandma?”

Another grandmother related this experience with old photos: “My five-year-old grandson watched entranced as I repacked an old trunk. When I found a picture of my husband as a young man, I showed it to the boy. ‘Is that really Grandpa?’ he asked. I assured him it really was. After studying the picture awhile, he shook his head and said, ‘He sure looks new there, Grandma. You must have just got him.’”

If recording your full life history feels overwhelming, let’s make it easy. Begin by recording only one subject for now. Something like “Christmas Memories.” Recall your earliest recollections of Christmases long ago, of yesteryear. How did your family celebrate the holidays? What were the traditions that drew you close? Recall the hard times and the blessings, the memories that warm your heart or bring a tear even now.

Continue by recalling the Christmases with your own children when they were small. Describe the joy that lit up their precious little faces in the light of the tree those early Christmas mornings. Special breakfast? Did you open gifts in a particular order, or was it happy chaos?

You will be amazed at how many memories flow back to you, once you begin. Ask for help, if you need it, to type and reproduce the account. It needn’t be professional to be precious to your loved ones. Open your heart; share your soul. Indeed, it will be a gift without price.