I am always in awe when my husband does generous things.
Take Sunday for example. In church, the pastor was talking about the Gifts of Love program going on. He said that 72 children were still in need, and more families needed to be adopted.
I felt sorry for them but really didn’t think too much about it. I didn’t really think we had the money to help them with Christmas coming and our bills stacking up.
Not to mention thousands of dollars in presents that we are buying for two spoiled rotten children.
After the sermon was over and benediction given, we filed out of the church into the lobby.
My husband turned to me and said, “Should we give some money to the needy families?” “Oh yes!” I said.
We went over and stood in line behind others who were ready to give.
To my astonishment, my husband pulled $100 out of his wallet and popped into the donation basket.
My eyes were as big as saucers I’m sure.
I don’t know why I was so surprised – he’s a very decent person. And even compassionate.
I guess I just figured that he really hadn’t given 72 needy children another thought. I’m glad he proved me wrong.
Speaking of Christmas, Max, 7, and Danny, 5, went to see Santa over the weekend. Max has known for two years that Santa is, well, a nice idea.
He’s also been telling his brother that as well.
Danny refuses to listen. “He IS real!” he screams.
My husband and I decided not to fill Danny in on the secret because we wanted him to feel the magic just a bit longer. I felt bad for not sharing, because as Christians we believe that Jesus should take center stage this time of year.
But of course we want our kids to be kids, too.
But Max is so mature – we knew he could sense that St. Nick was a ruse.
So we filled him in and didn’t regret our decision in spite of opposition from grandparents on both sides.
Fast forward to this year, Danny is all excited about his visit to Santa. Max is less than enthused.
We trek to the mall, stand in line for about half an hour and finally get a glimpse of the man in the red suit.
Danny began to get shy, but Max ambled over to His Jolliness.
My big 7-year-old plopped on Santa’s lap. Santa commented that both boys had really grown this year and were much taller than last year. A nice touch, I thought. Very authentic.
I felt like pulling Santa’s beard at that point.
Anyway, Max began to tell Santa about his desire for a Polar Express train and Danny was still silent, although he had managed at this point to sit on Santa’s other knee.
“Danny, tell Santa what you want,” I urged. Danny meekly said, “I want a Star Wars fold-up ship.”His voice was so small I wondered if I had grabbed the wrong kid by mistake. I repeated Danny’s order to Mr. Claus.
“Oh OK,” Santa said knowingly, “anything else?”
Both boys stammered and didn’t quit know what else to say.
“Do you like surprises?” Santa asked.
“Yes!” both answered.
“Well then I will leave you some surprises, does that sound good?”
“Yes!” Santa then gave the boys coloring books and candy canes.
Walking away from Santa’s lair Max startled everyone by saying. “You know what? I’ve been wrong this whole time. Santa IS real. I believe now! I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you Danny.”
I didn’t correct Max later on.
After all, there are worse things to believe in.