It is the Sunday right before Christmas! The day we all gathered to celebrate Christmas as a family. Gram and Gramps, aunts and uncles, cousins and then more cousins. It was a day that I looked forward to all year long.
Our huge family did some really fun and memorable things. One of my aunts was one of the most benevolent people on the face of the earth. Each year she would meet with different agencies and screen families for our big family to adopt for Christmas. Now, I'm not talking about a little gift for a needy child. I mean full adoption for Christmas. It was nothing shy of amazing what we did. Aunt Jan would find a family that preferably had six children. One that had an unusual set of circumstances causing them to be in great need. She would then go to the family and interview them, making sure that they were a good fit for our family, and understood what was about to happen. Once the family was found, the magic began.
First, Aunt Jan would go through the list of children's names. Oldest to youngest would be paired up with each of Aunt Jan's siblings - in the same order. So, each aunt or uncle had a name of one child that they were to provide Christmas for. They had sizes and wish lists and needs that the parents had prepared. We, the cousins, got so excited about our "kid". Each family did it a little differently, but it worked out so well. We would have a month to prepare, and we didn't wrap anything until we went to the family Christmas party. There, Aunt Jan had a table set up for each family. She provided name tags and wrapping paper and tape. Once our meal was done we all got to busy. We all got to see what the other kids were getting and we all wrapped together. It was an amazing sight. None of our family members were wealthy, but to see what was done for these children you would have thought they were the richest people on earth.
We all met in a hall, as the family was too big to gather in a home. We tried that for a few years, but as the families grew and some started marrying off, it was too much. There was always a decorated tree, and whoever had a crockpot brought it full of food to share. Later on we had cooking competitions and prizes awarded to first second and third place. We would share a meal together, and then after we ate, we would wrap our gifts for our "kid". Then once that was done, Gram and Gramp would pass out their gift to all of us.
Many of the cousins thought it to be "stupid". But me, the oddball, couldn't wait. Throughout the year, Gram and Grampa made a flannel pillowcase for each of us grandchildren. They would fold them up and put a money envelope containing $2 in each of them. Then they would put them in brown lunch sacks and Grampa would write our nickname on the bag. Yes, all of us grands had a nick name. Mine? InnyBinns. He called me that up until three days before he passed away! We would get our bags and couldn't wait to see what our pillowcase looked like. They were so soft and I can remember running my hands over it taking in its newness, and imagining laying my head on it when I went to bed that night! Grampa would stand at that tree and throw the bags to each person, and Gram would sit there with a big smile on her face!
After the gifts were passed, family would sit and visit, and enjoy each other's company. Meanwhile cousin Terry would play his guitar and we would all sing Christmas carols. It was a wonderful time, and we looked forward to it every year. For our "kid" they would recieve a new winter coat or snowsuit depending on their age, new boots, hats and gloves, a couple pairs of winter pajamas, insulated underwear, shoes, socks, underwear, a nice christmas outfit, and 5 new pairs of pants and shirts or sweaters for boys, and 5 new outfits for girls,and whatever toys were on their wishlist. Gram and Gramp would provide a new billfold with a $20 bill in it for each of the parents, my other aunt worked at a company that provided all the fixings for a holiday meal including a turkey, and all of the aunts and uncles brought canned goods. After the party was over, Aunt Jan would load up all the gifts that were put in large trash bags with each kid's name on it, and deliver it to the family. They never knew our names and we never knew theirs - it was best that way. She would report back to us on their reaction and their gratefulness. As a sidenote, I remember one of the last years we did this, the family we adopted had just buried the dad. Mom had six children and the youngest was a brand new baby. Her washer had quit working and she was using cloth diapers because she couldn't afford disposables. Gram had stopped doing her own laundry by then and offered up her wash machine. It was beyond description. I just remember Aunt Jan trying to explain this woman's reaction. Maybe it was because I was older with kids of my own. Maybe it was because the innocence of childhood had been removed, and the gift of giving seemed more real - more necessary - more sacrificial.
As I was shopping (online cuz I cant be up long enough to do the stores this year) for the grands, I thought what a great tradition to pass on. All of our grands live away from us now, and shopping and shipping is nuts. I could make them a pillowcase, and stick a $20 bill in there for them. I could have Jim wrap them in a brown lunch sack and write their names on it, and ship it out. As they get older they could possibly roll their eyes at it, as many of my cousins did. But as they become adults, and we age and our mortality becomes more of a reality to them - they will do as all of my cousins have - hold tight to those pillowcases, as they symbolize something dear. Something made by someone who loves them and something tangible that they could count on year after year after year, and have to hold onto once we have left this earth.
I still have most of my pillowcases, tho threadbare at this point. My kids used them, and my grandkids use them. The flannel looks old and weathered, and the patterns look antique! But they are treasured.
After Gram passed, we no longer gathered on this day. I think that was one of the saddest things ever. It just wasn't the same, and she was really the glue that held us all together. Today, I have a plethora of cousins, but rarely speak with any of them. I keep close contact with one, and had the good pleasure to share a meal with another a few months back. But thats it. I'm sure that would sadden Gram's heart, as her family was her lifebreath, and the one thing that brought her most joy.
My mom's family was so far away, and usually the mom's family is the one that most memories are made with. I am so grateful for my mom's willingness to make my dad's family such a intregal part of our lives. I cannot imagine what childhood would have looked like without them. I can't imagine my life without the influence they had on me as a child, and later as an adult. I know it was a sacrifice for my mom, as we spent every holiday with her inlaws, and the majority of our family time was with them. But, she did it sacrificially and without complaint, and I could never thank her enough.
So bottom line, what have I learned?
As I re-read this post, I am stricken by one word that stands out like none other. Sacrifice. I think of our family's sacrifice in providing for another family. A sacrifice that at times took away from our own, but one that in the end taught valuable lessons. We, as the kids, got to experience the joy of giving to someone we would never know and without getting any credit and acknowledgement for our good deed. Sacrifice on my mom's part - we as kids never thought about what she gave up being with her own - it was just normal to us. Today I understand that and have an undying respect for her. Sacrifice on Gram and Gramps part. Two dollars and a pillowcase. For them that was sacrifice. It was small and somewhat insignificant at that time. But that sacrifice lives on in all of us as we hold those insignificant pillowcases as if they were gold. Sacrifice.
While God wants our obedience to Him more than our sacrifice, I believe that our sacrifice in giving to others (with a joyful heart) brings Glory to Him. What am I sacrificing? What should I be sacrificing? What am I being called to sacrifice that I'm not willing? Thats the thing. Thats where obedience to God comes in. It is in that obedience to whatever He calls me to, that my life is transformed, and I am blessed beyond measure. But it is hard. Way hard. And while I know it has most benefit - as God wants whats good and best for his children - I rebel.
I pray that I will have a grateful heart, one that is willing to be obedient even in sacrifice. As it is thru obedience that the sacrifice give blessing to my life. I pray my heart is transformed into the image and likeness of Christ, and I am renewed. Wow. Yes, that is my prayer.
Psalm 51:
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