Dad Teaches Me the True Meaning of Christmas

It was the year that my Dad and mother were both working full-time. The bills had been getting paid and we had new clothes to wear. It was very good times for all of us.

It was 2 or 3 days before Christmas and the tree was hung and decorated with lights and tinsel. Under the tree, there seemed to be thousands of gifts. There were gifts large and small. This was going to be a great Christmas!

My Dad called my sisters and I together into the living room, near the tree. He explained that we were going to have a great Christmas, but that some other children would not be having a Christmas at all. He told each of us to choose one gift from under the tree that had our own name on it. This gift would go to a child so they could have a Christmas too. We were told not to squeeze or shake or in any way try to determine what the gift was.

When each of us had chosen a gift, we were loaded into the Pontiac and driven to the fire station. We took our gifts and gave them to a man in a fireman's jacket and helmet. We told the fireman that we wanted to give a present so that another child would be able to have a Christmas too.

We drove home in silence and deep thought.

On Christmas morning I was busy opening my gifts and my Dad said to me, “Somewhere, there is a little boy who is smiling because you gave them something to smile about.”

In that moment, my Dad taught me about caring about others.

Many years later, I was in a relationship with a woman with a young boy. I told him that my Dad had taught me about the true meaning of Christmas and that I wanted to share that with him. All through the summer, fall and into the winter Kyle would find a penny and put it into a jar. If he got some allowance money, he would take all of the change and put it into the jar. (I would often empty the change from my pockets and add a bit too when he wasn't looking) I told Kyle that every bit that he saved, that I would match and that he would get to go shopping for a needy child at Christmas.

Two weeks before Christmas, we dumped out the jar and counted it out carefully. There was just a bit over $20.00 in the jar. I told Kyle that he had $40 to spend and we went shopping. We went to the toy department and he got to work. He looked at large toys and would look to me for approval. I gave none. I explained that this was his gift and that he needed to pick it out himself. After a bit, he decided that rather than a single gift, if he got smaller gifts, he could make lots of children happy instead of just one. He ended up with about 6 toys, including a couple of girls toys. “Well, girls need toys too”, he said.

We paid the cashier and headed for the town hall were the toys were being collected. He carried in his huge bag of brand new toys and said, “These are for the children who won't have a Christmas”. I stood there, proud as any dad could be.

On Christmas day, I reminded Kyle that 6 children were opening presents, just like him, because he had cared.

I don't know where Kyle is in life now. I would hope that someday, he'll take a son or daughter to a fire station, arms loaded with toys, and he'll watch as his child says, “These are for the children who won't have a Christmas” and stand with pride like my dad and I did.