Believe and You Will Find What You Ask For

Believe and  You Will Find What You Ask For

There is nothing better than being a kid on Christmas morning. To wake up early, get your parents out of bed and dash to the tree to see if Santa made it to your house as expected. Fortunately, my brother and sister and I were never let down. I will always remember the year I got a 10-speed bike and thought that no gift could ever match it. That bike would hold the record for “best Christmas present ever” until almost 40 years later and Christmas 2013.

Years later as a parent, you can’t wait for your own kids to storm into your bedroom on Christmas morning, which they do many hours before they would normally peel back the covers. They eagerly awake the entire family to descend the stairs and sort all of the wrapped packages into piles and commence the unwrapping. Fortunately, Santa has never disappointed my two children either, but as any parent knows, or will experience, it gets tougher to recreate the magic as the teen years progress.

As Christmas 2013 approached I did not know what to expect. 2013 has been a rough year in our house. I have spent all of the year slowly trying to start a small business after losing my corporate job late last year, and my wife has proactively been fighting health issues while trying to work more and make up for our loss of income. That alone was enough of an uphill battle and thank God spirits remained bright throughout.

Then came August and more health issues. This time for my mom and this time her trip to the hospital was her last. She had had enough and had steadily been slowing down over the past few years, even to the point of not eating. Her loss hurt us deeply, though we knew she was at peace.

 “Could this year get any worse?”  This was a question we asked ourselves only to find it could. After being told earlier in the year that my mother-in law could possibly have another 5 to 7 years left to live due to a returning cancer, we found out that no matter what doctors say, it is God’s choice and God did not want to wait 7 years to get her back. So barely six weeks later, on my oldest daughter’s sixteenth birthday, we tearfully said goodbye to another Grandmother. We all wondered if this was just a nightmare that we couldn’t awake from, like Scrooge being visited from the three spirits.

So I sat in church early this Christmas morning praying to find some spirit. Many memories from Christmases past came flooding my brain and it was sad to think of how much different this Christmas would be from last Christmas. I found some peace in the fact that while my wife and I have made new traditions for our family, we have also continued many that have been passed down from our parents and our childhood days. I prayed to God for even a small sign that would bring some peace to a big kid who was feeling a little sorry for himself after a year filled with loss. I was in need of some cheer.

It was pleasant as I drove home early from mass. There was a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. The streets were empty. Everything was closed except for church and the corner gas station. It took me back to a time when all businesses recognized Sunday as a day of rest and closed to give people the day off to spend with their families. None of us ever suffered because stores and other business closed one day of the week and neither did businesses. Their customers returned when business resumed on Monday. This made me think more about my childhood and the sadness of spending my first Christmas ever without at least one parent to celebrate it with.

In our house, Christmas morning is the traditional time for opening presents. Having a 16 year old and a 15 year old daughter in the house meant there was no threat of them getting up too early this year to attack packages and I walked in the door a few minutes before they got out of bed. Good timing.

We sorted the presents in four piles. We always let the girls alternate opening packages until they are finished, then my wife and I exchange gifts. We also each take the girls out shopping every year to have them pick gifts for mom and dad that we open –  and that is our traditional Christmas morning before we have breakfast.

As my wife and I were picking up all of the spent wrapping paper, our daughters disappeared. We figured they were trying to avoid that task (which is also tradition) but reappeared as suddenly as they had vanished. They had left to get two presents that they had hidden from us.

Because our older daughter started driving this year she took her sister shopping. They pooled some babysitting and birthday money and got the idea that they should actually shop for and buy us each a gift this year.

And there it was, a moment that will play on the video screen of my memory for all time. They proudly handed those nicely wrapped boxes to my wife and I. We slowly realized what was happening and looked at each other to see if either one of us had any prior knowledge of this activity.

There it was, a 50 year old man and a 47 year old woman humbled by an unexpected and much appreciated gesture of two teenaged girls. It could have been anything in those boxes, we didn’t care because they did it all on their own.

And…there it was, my prayer answered. As we sadly said goodbye to our Mothers this Christmas and I struggled to find happiness in the season, I realized that as traditions get passed down, others are born -  and that 10-speed bike from Christmas past is the best present I have ever received, until this year. I am a believer.
Merry Christmas.