One of my favorite memories is not expecting gifts, and focusing on Jesus, and then being surprised. My dad was a bartender for thirty one years before he passed away in 1997. My mom stayed at home for most of the years, raising us ten kids. Things were tight sometimes, but he would sacrifice and send us to private schools. We had God, each other, and lots of love to go around. God always provided! He built us a house when i was twelve years old. Every year for as long as I can remember, he would tell us that we weren’t getting presents and that Christmas was about Jesus, not gifts. So, we prepared our hearts for Jesus. We’d plan Jesus’ birthday party, and get excited for the tree and decorations. We’d make a cake for Christmas Day, and sing Jesus Happy Birthday! We’d also go look at lights all around the city. We’d sit in the living room every night and each read a paragraph section or two of the Bible. We would also sing worship songs. But this was every night, not just at Christmas. But we’d watch Jesus of Nazareth and we’d call being the characters. My sisters and I would always want to be Mary, my brothers, Jesus. Whoever called it first got to be them, and then we’d each call the next character in some descending order of appearance. Once that was settled, we’d each imagine ourselves as being that character in the movie. It was so fun! And we’d watch the Sound of Music every Christmas and also choose those characters. Growing up Catholic, my sisters and I would always want to be Maria- nun turned mom. We all used to sing along to the TV. So on Christmas morning, at about 5:00am, I’d wake up to the Christmas tree my dad had probably bought Christmas Eve when they were practically giving them away. He’d proudly tie it to the top of our station wagon and bring it home like a trophy! He never paid full price for a tree! My dad would painstakingly put icicle tinsel on each pine needle, making the most glittery, sparkly trees I’ve ever seen. So I’d plug it in at 5:00am, while it was still dark outside and dark in the house, and see the piles of gifts around our living room and fireplace room. Piles and piles of gifts, one pile for each of us, each with little tags in my mom’s handwriting that said-Love, Jesus. I would get so excited and lay down on the couch and wait for everyone to wake up, and each get excited! I remember that time when it was just me, just looking at the beautiful tree and being grateful and happy. My parents would drag themselves out of bed to come join us. The rule was nobody opened anything until everyone was together. So then we’ d tear through our gifts and get happy when we got toys, and meh when we got clothes. Our stockings always had an apple and an orange in them like the book, Little Women. We’d watch that as a family every year, too. And every year, my dad would convince us there would be no presents, and every year we would posture our hearts towards Jesus. Every year, we’d be surprised!
Talk about managing ten kids and our expectations, and teaching us to prioritize Jesus.