Merry Christmas!!

Before I get to this blog post, I just wanted to share a few things about it.  I originally had this published in a paper I write for (Laurel Leader-Call) with the hopes that others would read it and share with me some of their own ideas about "gift condensing," and that's exactly what they did! With that being said, please post in the comment section any ideas or gift giving traditions that play out in your families on Christmas morning. I'm always eager to learn. This post does reflect my religious belief, but I'm going to hope no one takes offense to it. I promise I'm not trying to push any thing on anyone. :)

Santa’s Black Card

“I want this, and that, and one of those!”

It’s Christmas, and the must-have-it-all attitude has nearly consumed the children in my home. 

“You’ll probably get a few things from your lists if you’re good,” I said to our sons as their lists began to mirror the complete inventory of Toys-R-Us, “but you know you can’t have all of these things, right?” 

Their smiles crumbled.  Our youngest son was completely heartbroken, and looked at me as if I told him we were destitute and soon to become homeless.  The oldest, our logical thinker, quite seriously said, “It’ll be okay!  I know Santa doesn’t have elves to make that much stuff for all the kids.  That would be impossible.  He has a Black Card.”

The American Express Centurion Card, solid black and made of titanium with requirements of at least $21,000 that must be charged and paid in full each month, is about as attainable to the Walters family Santa as a free trip to the moon.  I looked at my little guys who were waiting for me to assure them that Santa could find a way to get them whatever they asked for.  They’d worked so hard all year helping others and love to give to those in need, so I wondered how on earth I was going to tell them Santa doesn’t really have a Black Card.  Or better yet, that no matter how deserving they were, no one really merits that much stuff.

I remember being the same way as a child, despite my parents setting good examples of what it means to live selflessly.  Even the most altruistic of children get a little wayward at Christmastime.  As a young child, I would wait so impatiently for the J.C. Penney Christmas catalog to arrive in the mail.  Once I had the book in my possession, highlighter and pen in hand, I would make list after list of everything I thought I needed.  A time or two, I sent my massive lists to relatives, and couldn’t understand why they thought I was being cute.  In fact, the first time I was nationally published was in elementary school when I wrote a complaint letter to a newspaper.  My complaint was that my parents had bought a C.D. player for my brother and I to share, and I thought I deserved to have one for myself alone.  I pouted on paper in hope to seek attention and validation, but instead I hurt my parents and my own image.  It never occurred to me how ungrateful I was being, and how that may make people feel about me.

It was a life-changing moment for sure, and after the Black Card proclamation I wanted to make sure more than ever that our boys understood that life was not about getting a C.D. player of your own.  I wanted to kick the habit good and well before they reached adulthood and had children of their own on top of that.  Too often we see grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles in a race to give the better or most gifts.  The kids end up bombarded with toys they don’t even take out of the packaging until April.  It’s a battle that can’t be won!

So how do you tell children that Santa doesn’t have a Black Card?  It’s hard to explain to young minds that Santa is broke or on a budget in a way they can understand.  I took the problem to my friends and learned of some clever solutions.  My favorite suggestion is one several of my friends are participating in now.  The idea is for Santa to deliver just four presents to each child.  The children are then explained (via letter from Santa) that three of the gifts represent the gifts the wise men gave to Jesus the day of his birth.  Since gold, frankincense and myrrh aren’t practicable gifts, in their places the kids receive something they want, something they need, and something to read.  The fourth gift, something to wear, represents Mary’s gift to her son when she wrapped in him swaddling clothes. 

Through the process, the story of Christmas will take precedence over the legend of Santa.  It’s a beautiful tribute to the real purpose of celebration, and the little ones learn to become ambassadors for the message of Christmas: hope, love, and giving.  Jesus, the reason we celebrate, was satisfied with four gifts and later devoted his life to helping others.  Who could argue it doesn’t work?  I think it’s about time for Santa and his helpers to cut up those cards.