The Gift Of Giving
Posted: December 1, 2012
Friendly City Files
I’m walking the aisles, agonizing over finding the right Christmas presents for a kid I do not know and will never meet … and it’s one of my favorite parts of Christmas.
Every year, we get our Salvation Army Angel Tree tags at church. (If you aren’t familiar, the Angel Tree program allows less fortunate kids to receive personalized gifts at Christmas.) Connor picks a boy, Faith picks a girl and Cindy and I do the respective shopping.
Cindy’s tag reads, “Baby doll, arts and crafts.” She deserts me in my time of need and heads off to the girls’ toys section.
My tag reads, “Bike, action figures, Legos.” Bike: That’s right up my alley.
Wait. He’s nine, but how tall is he? No clue. I grab a few bikes, see how far the seats will adjust (a lot, fortunately), aisle-test a few bikes (something not appreciated by other shoppers, unfortunately), ask two passing kids how old they are so I can try to estimate his height (drawing a quizzical glance from at least one mom), and stand staring for 10 minutes while I try to decide between the orange bike with gears (definite cool factor) or the blue bike without gears (way more reliable.)
Cindy walks by. “I like the blue one,” she says, instantly clearing my fog of over-analysis.
Now, for action figures: Sports, comic books, pro wrestling, video game characters … I have no idea what he likes. I’m rifling through Star Wars toys when Cindy sails by and says, “Go with Batman.” I turn to say thanks, but she’s gone.
Luckily, she descends like a shopping angel of mercy to rescue me from staring helplessly at Legos. In the meantime, she’s found a doll, arts and craft sets and a cool coloring-book-style playhouse that a five-year-old girl will love.
Does it sound like I’m complaining? It is tough to figure out what a kid I don’t know might like. It is difficult to balance what he wants with what he might need — after all, any child participating in the program is, by definition, in some degree of need. Should we buy toys even though they might really need clothes, and even if they didn’t ask for clothes?
Is that a judgment I should even be making? (Answer: No.)
So yes, Angel Tree shopping is a struggle for me — and it’s also one of my favorite parts of Christmas. It’s fun to think about what to buy and it’s fun to shop, even though I despise shopping.
Later, Cindy and I wonder about whether they will like their presents; we wonder where they go to school; we wonder what their lives are like … for a few weeks, it’s like they are, in a very small way, “our” kids.
This year, over 1,900 children are registered in the Angel Tree program. The same kids don’t pop up year after year; turnover is high and the majority of participants this year are from new families. That’s both good news and bad news: Many struggling families have gotten back on their feet, but just as many families have taken their place … and need our help.
The program runs until Dec. 8, when all presents need to be turned in to the Salvation Army, so you still have time. Angel Trees can be found at JC Penney, Wal-Mart, the Dayton Farmer’s Market and a few area churches. Or call the Salvation Army at 434-4854. They’ll help you pick a child in need.
Don’t worry, they won’t run out of kids: Every registered child gets at least one gift, so every year the Salvation Army buys presents for all the children who are not “adopted” (which means, if you don’t have time to shop, that monetary donations are definitely appreciated.)
While you can argue that Christmas is too much about commerce and too little about spirituality or family, for children, Christmas is definitely about presents. That’s not their fault: As a society, we condition them to feel that way. Right or wrong, to a child, this Christmas will not be Christmas unless they get at least a few presents to open.
To a struggling parent, this Christmas will not be Christmas unless they can provide a few presents for their children to open.
And, to the rest of us, this Christmas will be an even better Christmas if we extend the spirit of giving to one or two children we don’t know and will never meet — which, if you think about it, is the true spirit of Christmas.
Every year, we get our Salvation Army Angel Tree tags at church. (If you aren’t familiar, the Angel Tree program allows less fortunate kids to receive personalized gifts at Christmas.) Connor picks a boy, Faith picks a girl and Cindy and I do the respective shopping.
Cindy’s tag reads, “Baby doll, arts and crafts.” She deserts me in my time of need and heads off to the girls’ toys section.
My tag reads, “Bike, action figures, Legos.” Bike: That’s right up my alley.
Wait. He’s nine, but how tall is he? No clue. I grab a few bikes, see how far the seats will adjust (a lot, fortunately), aisle-test a few bikes (something not appreciated by other shoppers, unfortunately), ask two passing kids how old they are so I can try to estimate his height (drawing a quizzical glance from at least one mom), and stand staring for 10 minutes while I try to decide between the orange bike with gears (definite cool factor) or the blue bike without gears (way more reliable.)
Cindy walks by. “I like the blue one,” she says, instantly clearing my fog of over-analysis.
Now, for action figures: Sports, comic books, pro wrestling, video game characters … I have no idea what he likes. I’m rifling through Star Wars toys when Cindy sails by and says, “Go with Batman.” I turn to say thanks, but she’s gone.
Luckily, she descends like a shopping angel of mercy to rescue me from staring helplessly at Legos. In the meantime, she’s found a doll, arts and craft sets and a cool coloring-book-style playhouse that a five-year-old girl will love.
Does it sound like I’m complaining? It is tough to figure out what a kid I don’t know might like. It is difficult to balance what he wants with what he might need — after all, any child participating in the program is, by definition, in some degree of need. Should we buy toys even though they might really need clothes, and even if they didn’t ask for clothes?
Is that a judgment I should even be making? (Answer: No.)
So yes, Angel Tree shopping is a struggle for me — and it’s also one of my favorite parts of Christmas. It’s fun to think about what to buy and it’s fun to shop, even though I despise shopping.
Later, Cindy and I wonder about whether they will like their presents; we wonder where they go to school; we wonder what their lives are like … for a few weeks, it’s like they are, in a very small way, “our” kids.
This year, over 1,900 children are registered in the Angel Tree program. The same kids don’t pop up year after year; turnover is high and the majority of participants this year are from new families. That’s both good news and bad news: Many struggling families have gotten back on their feet, but just as many families have taken their place … and need our help.
The program runs until Dec. 8, when all presents need to be turned in to the Salvation Army, so you still have time. Angel Trees can be found at JC Penney, Wal-Mart, the Dayton Farmer’s Market and a few area churches. Or call the Salvation Army at 434-4854. They’ll help you pick a child in need.
Don’t worry, they won’t run out of kids: Every registered child gets at least one gift, so every year the Salvation Army buys presents for all the children who are not “adopted” (which means, if you don’t have time to shop, that monetary donations are definitely appreciated.)
While you can argue that Christmas is too much about commerce and too little about spirituality or family, for children, Christmas is definitely about presents. That’s not their fault: As a society, we condition them to feel that way. Right or wrong, to a child, this Christmas will not be Christmas unless they get at least a few presents to open.
To a struggling parent, this Christmas will not be Christmas unless they can provide a few presents for their children to open.
And, to the rest of us, this Christmas will be an even better Christmas if we extend the spirit of giving to one or two children we don’t know and will never meet — which, if you think about it, is the true spirit of Christmas.
Jeff Haden lives in Harrisonburg and is a bestselling ghostwriter and featured business columnist for Inc.com. He can be reached at www.blackbirdinc.com.