Each week my 5th grader brings home a hand written report detailing events of the past days at school. His accounts are brief and chock full of misspellings. But what they lack in flourish and perfection, they often make up for in thought and spirit. “What I Did This Week” generally involves a list of the sports he played at recess. Followed by the “What I’m Proud of This Week” which is frequently tied to some success at the sports at recess. It’s all rounded out with the “What I’ll Work on Next Week” section which almost always involves a variation on the theme, “I will try not to talk while the teacher is talking.”
But these little reports also contain tiny little glimpses into my 10 year olds’ psyche. Like the day he wrote that he was proud he tried a new food at lunch—but didn’t like it. The day he wrote that he was proud he finished a book and followed that with the enthusiastic report that it was the best book he’d ever read. But occasionally there is a little gem of a story, scrawled in heavy hand that I tuck away as a little Christmas Present no matter what time of year it is. Like the day he wrote, “I’m proud I worked with the new kid at school today.”
When I asked for details, he shrugged and said, “Oh, yea, no one wanted to be his partner so I said I wanted to be his partner.”
“Wow, John, that was really cool of you,” I said.
“Yea, and mom, he is really nice and funny and I want to have him come over and play sometime.”
With Christmas just weeks away our conversations frequently turn to buying gifts and writing wish lists and getting it all done by the big day. But we also chat about generosity, and giving, and the real meaning of Christmas. The thing is, I believe it’s a year round lesson and that growing a generous spirit can’t be cultivated in just a few weeks before Christmas.
Among the dozens of collections contained in my youngest son’s room is an ever expanding rock collection. At bedtime he will frequently tell me he’s given away his favorite rock or fossil because a friend didn’t have one. Most times his action is completely without thought of what he is giving up and that is occasionally followed by second thoughts at bedtime. But, in the end, we usually agree, it feels pretty good to give someone a special thing that has meaning to us and he falls asleep happy.
Each night I search these blue eyes that stare back at me at bedtime, for the little daily Christmas Presents of a spontaneous kind heart, and generous nature. I squeeze my eyes shut tight when they wrap their arms around my neck. I think how much I love their kind little souls and feel proud that this week we nurtured their generosity beyond the Christmas spirit--the best Christmas gifts they could ever give me.
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