What I told my kids about Christmas

Christmas is approaching, a time of year that I dread. It's not the religious significance that I don't like--it is, after all, the Celebration of the Nativity of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. It's the commercialism.

Yes, I know that sounds trite. But it's true.

Christmas has become chri$$ma$. All those dollar signs. All those purchases. Stimulate the economy. Buy something for them. Or just Buy.

So this year I decided to do something different. Their mother was taking them to the toy store this afternoon to look for a gift for their two-and-a-half year old little brother. They weren't particularly pleased. Their little brother routinely messed up their rooms, took their toys, stood in front of the television when they were watching it, made noise when they were trying to listen to something, cried a lot and got most of the attention from Mom and Dad. No, they weren't pleased at the prospect of spending an afternoon in a toy store where they couldn't get anything for themselves but had to find something for him instead.

So I told them something from the heart: the best part of Christmas is not in the getting of gifts, but in the giving.

They rolled their eyes.

"I know that, Dad," said my daughter.

"I know you do," I replied. "And do you know the name of that feeling you get when someone gives you exactly what you were needing, you were wanting, you were looking for, hoped for and missed not having so so much that you'd do anything you could to get it?"

"Like the Littlest Pet Show Zoo?" my daughter asked.

"Yep. Or the coolest Spiderman wrist rocket that shoots real webs," I told my son.

He nodded, eyes serious.

"Now, what's the name of that feeling you get inside?"

She thought for a moment, then responded. "Happy?"

I smiled. "That's right. Now, what Christmas tells us is that there is something that feels even better than that. That feeling comes when you give someone that feeling."

"Happy happy?" laughed my son. "Have a happy happy christmas!"

I shook my head. "No, we say have a MERRY Christmas. Only most people have forgotten what merry means. But now you two know."

With that I closed the door on the minivan and waved at them all as my wife backed the vehicle out of the driveway.

May you have a very, Merry Christmas.