As I contemplate the arrival of the holidays, I think about all the warm and
wonderful Christmas's as a child and I feel a smile cross my face. They were
truly a time to remember. As I grew older, the Christmas memories become less
vivid and more of a sad and depressing time for me...until last year. It was
then that I believe I learned how to re-capture that childhood wonder and joy I
felt as a child.
Every year I flounder never knowing what to buy my mother for Christmas. Another
robe and slippers, perfume, sweaters? All nice gifts, but they just don't say I
love you like they should. I wanted something different, something she would
love for the rest of her life. Something that would put that beautiful smile
back on her face and the quickness in her step. She lives alone and much as I
may want to spend time with her, I can only manage an occasional visit with the
schedule I keep. So I made the decision to become her Secret Santa. Little did I
know that this would be just what the doctor ordered.
I went out and bought all sorts of small gifts and then headed to the more
expensive areas of the mall. I picked up little nothings, things that I knew
only my mother would love. I took them home and wrapped each one differently.
Then I went to my computer and made a card for each one. It went according to
the song The Twelve Days of Christmas. Then I began my adventure. The first day
was so exciting, I dropped it off and put it in the screen door. Then I hurried
home and called her, pretending to inquire about her health. She was bubbling
over. Someone had left a gift for her and signed it "Secret Santa".
The next day, the same scenario played out. After four or five days, I went to
her house and my heart just broke. She had laid out all the gifts on her kitchen
table and was showing them to everyone at the apartment complex. Wrappings and
all were spread out and each one had the note attached. She never stopped
talking about this secret admirer the entire duration of my visit. Her eyes
sparkled and her voice was lilting. She was in seventh heaven.
Every day, she would call me with news of the new gift she found when she woke
up. Then she decided to try to catch the person responsible and slept on the
couch with the door cracked open. So I left it later that day and she worried
that the gifts weren't coming any more. She had me just as excited as she was.
On the last day, the note told her to be dressed on that Saturday and she was to
go to Applebys for dinner and it was there she would meet her Secret Santa. She
went wild. The note also told her to ask her daughter Susan to bring her (that's
me). It said she would know her Secret Santa by the red ribbon she would be
wearing. So I picked her up and off we went.
When we arrived the hostess seated us at a table and my Mom looked around. She
lost the smile and asked when was she going to meet her Secret Santa. I slowly
took off my coat and there was the red ribbon. She began to cry and fuss over
how much I spent and how did I do this . She was happier than I have ever seen
her.
When it was all said and done, I thought about how good I felt and just as
quickly, I remembered something very important. When I was a child, it was my
mother who taught me that it is better to give than to receive. Reality slapped
me hard. All these years I had been sad during the holidays was most likely
because I was looking at the 'getting' instead of the 'giving'. I was humbled by
this realization and now I am certain, Mom does know best...
Susan Spence ARPoet@aol.com
Visit Susan at
http://www.themestream.com/authors/83680.html
Southern States Rottweiler Rescue...http://www.ssrottweilerrescue.org
Copyright© Susan Spence 2000
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