Sunny Side Up Dec. 13, 2006 �2006, Kathleen Gibson Choose that most special gift Several years ago I prepared to wrap the gifts the Preacher and I had chosen for our two adult children. I can't remember those gifts. Books, perhaps. Maybe some clothing. We're never extravagant, but we usually include at least one that rises above the others. It was missing that year. It's never the cost of that gift that makes it important. It's special because it represents something greater. Memories. A special interest. Struggles overcome. Great accomplishments. Or maybe just because it was made with love. "It's not here," I told the Preacher. "They won't remember any of these gifts a year or ten from now." So three days before Christmas, as though blown by an ill wind, I flew to the store. To aisles crowded with others who'd waited too long to find that 'one' special gift. I looked at books, clothes, jewelry, housewares, games. Nothing. For once, I wished I believed in Santa Claus. He-at least, according to legend-always knows precisely the perfect present. By the time I hit the photography aisle, my mind had fuzzed up and my eyes glazed over. But I spotted them there. And into my depleted brain, God inserted a gem. Back home, my joie de vivre restored, I trumpeted, "I've found them!" The Preacher gazed at the two large black frames with ten windows each. "Picture frames? Those are 'special'? " "Wait." I said. Then from closet and cupboard, I dragged photo albums and boxes-spanning almost thirty years of family memories. I rummaged through them quickly, delighting in memories revisited. Hours later, twenty photos lay spread on the table. Ten of each of both children, taken at intervals of about two to three years; from their births until their early twenties. After a marathon of computer work, I tucked those photos into the black frames. All black and white, except for one per child, chosen to represent the 'color' in their lives. Humor, for Anthony-his showed him made up like a clown on his third birthday. For Amanda, love-hers featured her, radiant, in her wedding gown. When I stood back to view the finished product, my face felt strangely warm. I touched my cheek and found tears. On Christmas morning both kids opened their gifts at the same time. The room filled with a silence so eloquent we all heard it. For the first time our children saw and understood exactly what the Preacher and I had been telling them for years. "Tomorrow will be here before you know it�. You're growing up too fast! Seems like just yesterday that you were born�" What they saw was the timeline of their own life. And no one remembers any other gifts given or received that Christmas. God sends humankind many precious gifts. But above them all rises the gift we celebrate at Christmas. Jesus-God Incarnate-in wrappings of cloths, tucked in a manger box. That gift suffuses life with color and endures into eternity. Embrace it. Embrace Christ. Respond Home |
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