My uncle said once that money could bring happiness, contrary to what he’d heard. He found such joy in giving his wealth away. Those gifts multiplied many times over as they encouraged other givers. So people’s lives were nurtured and restored, and they in turn were granted the privilege of giving to others: the gifts just kept on giving.
Gifts don’t even have to be new. Our grandchildren range in age from twenty to six years of age, but each child, from toddlerhood till their knees could no longer squeeze into place, has ridden the second-hand tricycle my sister donated when her own children outgrew it. The tricycle was certainly not comfortable – it was so old that no seat cushions could be found to adequately cover the old metal seat plate. That in no way stopped each child from zipping around our basement with glee. Once we found out we could link up the old steno chair with its free-wheeling base as a trailer, the fun was on.
One of last year’s gifts was a bonus, as it came in an old photo storage box – just the thing I’d been looking for in which to organize and keep old photographs. I felt like a small child, as distracted and happy with the box as with the gift itself.
Sometimes the gift is Presence. Our home offers us its gift of sanctuary, so that we can bask in the afternoon sunlight, winter cozy. Outside, the Christmas wreath hangs on our front door and spruce woodchips from a local tree service scent our garden beds and walkways. The bright hues of Christmas lights on our small tree are mesmerizing.
It’s Christmas time and we celebrate the awesome gift of the tiny child in a manger. Even the poorest of us has been given such riches. Gift that the Giver gave of himself, true abundance and ever-flowing life.