Of Receiving the Gift

(Originally written on Oct. 4, 1988)


Christmas is a time of sharing, caring, and thinking more of others than of oneself. The Giving Spirit teaches boys and girls his lessons early in life. Giving brings temporary joy to the heart of the young giver, but there is a deeper lesson taught by Christmas- a lesson of receiving.

On one cold Christmas morning in south Georgia, my sisters, my brother, and I woke earlier than usual. Something about having unopened presents downstairs made this particular morning quite welcome. Mama and Daddy greeted us with hugs and coffee-smelling kisses as we waited impatiently for the approval to destroy the wrapping paper that unlawfully separated us from our gifts, my gifts.

One at a time, each of us opened a gift and forcibly smiled as the other "got one better than mine." The colorful wrappings soon piled into a heap, almost burying the reality of our everyday struggle of life. Two pistols, a train set, a G.I. Joe, a cowboy hat, twenty-four plastic army men, and three sticky candy canes accumulated around my feet. These would be just perfect in my room, I thought to myself.

Totally enthralled with all of the gifts we received, we began our pilgrimage toward our separate rooms, our own little worlds that cut off all relationships, all communication, and whatever else that reminded us of who we were. But then we were stopped.

"Wait, there's one more present," Mama injected. "It's for Jarrett and Buck."

One more present? I thought. For the both of us?


"It's from your Daddy and me," she said.

Another present! I thought again with excitement. But why for the both us?


The thought of having to share something with a sibling on Christmas Day almost sickened me. But together, Jarrett and I tore into the carefully wrapped package to uncover two matching blue and grey flannel shirts. One was size ten for me; the other was size eight for my brother. My countenance dropped.

Matching Shirts! What in the world could be worse than matching your brother! And on Christmas! I almost cried. I felt certain my parents were punishing us for repainting the barn without their permission. I was sure that Jarrett held the same sentiments, but he said no different.

We made our way upstairs and put the two shirts as far back into our closets as we could. We stared blankly at the clothing and exchanged oaths never to wear those horrid pieces of flannel, ever. Forgetting the shirts, we once again got back to our toys, apart from each other.

The years passed and the two unworn flannel shirts somehow slipped from us like Christmas does every year. Decembers have come and gone many times since then, but the guilt of not wearing that little flannel shirt has burned its place forever into my mind. Even when shopping for winter clothes this year, I had an overwhelming desire to buy another blue and grey flannel shirt to take the place of the other one. But then I realized that it never could.

With the Christmas season this year, I have chosen to give to others without craving anything in return. And if asked what is the one thing I desire most this Christmas, I will simply smile and say nothing. But if the chance were given to somehow go back to that size ten flannel shirt and slip it on just once to match my little brother, I would give everything I own.

To give is better than to receive, but to receive, to truly receive a gift for what it is, is far greater than any giving could be.