Christmas 2008 Christian Gift Giving Guide:
Have you ever pondered what is the meaning of Christmas?
This Christmas how can our celebration of December the 25th transcend materialism and empty trinket culture. It seems to me that the spirit of giving can’t and shouldn’t stop at friends and family. And that gift giving isn’t about money or stuff…that it has to be about something more (if 6 months later that stuff isn’t cast aside for new, better, shinyer stuff).
Alternatives to Consumerism| The Advent Conspiracy Video | Ariah Fine Greg has Advent Conspiracy coverage at Christmas 2008
Feel free to add your links and ideas in the comments, or link to this post…Thanks!
How are you planning on spending the holidays?
4 responses so far ↓
Circle City Girl // November 25, 2008 at 9:33 pm |
Thanks for sharing
Ariah Fine // November 26, 2008 at 2:33 am |
thanks for the linkage
thesmurtis // December 7, 2008 at 4:15 pm |
GREAT video. I loved this.
GT girl // December 9, 2008 at 2:19 pm |
I just wanted to share an inspiring story that may lead to some great Christmas gifts that stay away from the material part of the holiday. The original story was published in the December 1982 issue of Woman’s Day magazine as the winner of the “My Most Moving Holiday Tradition” contest in which readers were asked to share their favorite holiday tradition and the story behind it. This story lead to the creation of The White Envelope Project, a nonprofit organization dedicated to developing the next generation of Givers, Civic Leaders, and Philanthropists. Read the story below and visit http://www.WhiteEnvelopeProject.org for more information and giving ideas!
“For the Man Who Hated Christmas”
by Nancy W. Gavin
It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas–oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it–overspending… the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma—the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears.
It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.
Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.” Mike loved kids – all kids – and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition–one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.
The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.
As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn’t end there.
You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.
Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down the envelope.
Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us.