The Joy of Giving

By James Kissinger

 “Next to me in the blackness lay my oiled blue steel beauty. The greatest Christmas gift I had ever received, or would ever receive. Gradually, I drifted off to sleep, pringing ducks on the wing and getting off spectacular hip shots.”  — Ralphie, speaking of his Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle in A Christmas Story

 Tomorrow is Christmas. That special day on every kid’s calendar. I’ve found few things in this world that bring me more pleasure than seeing the faces of my children in the early light of Christmas morning, staring at the gifts underneath the tree, wondering where to begin. It was thirty five years tomorrow I awakened to find my best Christmas gift ever, a shiny blue Suzuki Trailhopper 50, waiting underneath our tree.  A dream come true.  One of those moments that’s frozen in time. The picture vivid in my mind … bursting through the door into the den and seeing it parked there on the green shag carpet next to my sister’s red tandem bicycle. I ran three tanks of gas through it on that day alone.  It was a morning I’ll never forget. All in life was right.

 Tomorrow my oldest daughter, Audrey, will have a similar experience.  Audrey is social. VERY social. Eleven years old. Sixth grade. Her life revolves around her friends and her friend’s friends (which she calls her half friends, just so you understand the complexity of what I’m dealing with). Tomorrow she will receive her portal to the world … her first cell phone.  A full two years ahead of schedule. Rollover minutes, unlimited texting. Eden. All in life will be right.

 These are moments parents cherish. Not indulgence, but knowing what touches a child’s heart. A motorcycle for a roamer. A phone for a social butterfly. An expression of a budding personality. As fond a memory as that 1973 Christmas morning is to me, I now understand how much more the joy was in the hearts of my parents. The joy of the giving.

 Christmas was, is, and will always be about a gift. God’s gift to a dying world. A gift of hope and of love. A gift of a savior. So we follow suit and give to those we care for. But Christmas, as special a day as it is, should only be the beginning of our giving. Our best gifts are those we can share the other 364 days of the year. The giving or our time. The giving of our talents. Sharing the gifts God has given us with the world outside our door. I mentioned I’ve found few things that bring as much pleasure as seeing my children’s faces on Christmas morning. One thing I’ve found that does is the satisfaction gained by quietly serving others. Serving for the sake of serving. When we serve with a servant’s heart, expecting nothing in return, the blessings that flow back to us are immeasurable. I can recount one such blessing.

 Anyone who knows me knows that I have a heart for children. Roughly fifteen years ago I began helping in the children’s ministry at our church. A teacher was sick, and someone asked me to fill in. With no kids of my own and no experience teaching, my qualifications really were nil. I was what you’d call a “warm body.”  But that first Sunday turned into another and another and another, and it soon became apparent that I did have one qualification I’d overlooked. I cared. I’ve been working with children ever since.

 The blessings have been many over the years and I’ve had the privilege of seeing them come full circle. Let me explain. For fourteen of those fifteen years I worked with 4 year olds. I’ve had a handful of children come through that have touched my heart in a special way. I care for each child, but some reach you in a way others don’t. The first of those children was a girl named Karly. Four years old with blue eyes, beautiful brown hair and a smile that melted my heart. I doted on her. Every Sunday for a year she greeted me with outstretched arms. No matter how badly my heart had been beaten up during the week, I knew for an hour on Sunday I’d be loved by a child and I’d give love in return. But as always happens, the year passed too quickly, and Karly moved on.

 A decade came and went and dozens of children passed through my care. Some I remember, and some I don’t. Then came Paxton. A beautiful blonde-headed child with as sweet and gentle a spirit as I’d ever encountered. The bond with her was immediate. Like Karly, Paxton was in my arms from the moment she arrived. It was the highlight of my week. Her mom shared with me that before meeting “Mr. James”, she hadn’t wanted to come to church … Sunday mornings had been extremely difficult for her. I’m not really sure, but perhaps in my presence she felt safe and loved. She certainly was. For whatever reason, I had been able to make a difference. She’d made a difference to me as well.

 It’s always gratifying to see the children grow in your care. Paxton, too, moved on to an older class. I ran into her mom a year or so later and she told me that Paxton had found someone to take my place. A student helper that took a special interest in her. The student helper’s name was Karly. Now a teenager, Karly is giving of her time and her talents. One of my children loving on one of my children. I wondered if perhaps she wasn’t passing on a blessing, some of a gift, I’d shared with her. I like to think she is. A blessing coming full circle.

 If you really want a blessing take the time to give the world around you the best gift you can give … yourself. Serve. Somewhere. Anywhere. The joy truly is in the giving.

 

 

 

 

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