'Twas The Night Before Christmas Remix

It's Christmas Eve.  Our stockings are stuffed, and our children are dreaming.  Before sugarplums are allowed to dance in my head, however, I need to take a moment to post some of the thoughts I have had this Christmas season. 

I've been thinking about giving, largely because of a book I read recently titled "The Mansion" by Henry Van Dyke.  It's a short Christmas story that's been around for ages, but I had never read it until now.  It's about a wealthy man who loves giving to others, but he always takes great care to give in a way that he will be recognized for his gifts.  Funding hospital wings that will be named after him, donating large sums of money to local charities that honor him for his contributions, and other such endeavors are what his life has been made of. 

On Christmas Eve, his son asks him for some money to help a dear friend suffering from a disease.  The friend will likely not recover, whether he gets the money or not, though it would ease the burden felt by the family as the head of their household suffers.  The father knows that no recognition will come to him for helping his son's friend, so he refuses.  Shortly after, he falls asleep and has a dream that he has died and gone to heaven.  There he discovers that throughout life, all the good deeds you do are built into a mansion for you to live in when you get to heaven. 

He eagerly anticipates the stately one that must surely be waiting for him, and is shocked when he sees that his heavenly home is but a small shack.  He asks why and is told that he already received retribution for each of his good deeds when he was recognized and heralded on earth.  He then asks in confusion, "What is it that counts here?" 

The answer comes, "Only that good which is done for the love of doing it.  Only those plans in which the welfare of others is the master thought.  Only those labors in which the sacrifice is greater than the reward.  Only those gifts in which the giver forgets himself."

This is exactly the way the Savior gives to us.  Each Christmas I struggle to remember why we give gifts in the first place.  I believe it is to remember the gift of a baby, given so long ago yet renewed each and every day.  Celebrating this selfless and humble giving is what should be at the heart of our christmas gifting.  Yet this is precisely what I often forget in my efforts to purchase just the right toys for each of my children, or make sure they will all feel that they have a fair share of the gifts under the tree come Christmas morning.

As another busy shopping season has come to an end and the presents are wrapped and strategically placed under the tree, I am free to sit back and admire the beauty surrounding me.  My thoughts are turning to the Savior and I'm realizing that I've done it again.  In my haste to tie up all the loose ends before tonight, I lost sight of the 'why' in my holiday gift giving.  So I have re-written the words to the poem, "Twas the Night Before Christmas" to express my sentiments, hopefully in a lighthearted way.  Because, despite the craziness of the month, it has been a truly wonderful Christmas season and for that, I am thankful!

'Twas the night before Christmas 

and throughout the space, 

Two parents were scurrying

all over the place.

 

Five stockings to stuff

and presents to wrap, 

One mom simply thinking

I just need a nap!

Five children excited, 

too hyper for bed.

Begging and pleading

for one slice of bread.

"No more drinks, no more food

Please go brush your teeth!

Your father and I--

we just need some sleep!"

When at last peaceful silence

fell over the house,

The five sleeping children

they dared not arouse.

The parents then put on 

their Santa Claus caps, 

They gathered the presents,

then wrapped, wrapped, and wrapped.

They placed all the gifts

'neath the tree with great care,

Settled down on the couch, 

cozied up and then stared.

Christmas lights shining bright

like the star on that night,

Twinkled brightly and painted

a heavenly sight.

They gazed on in wonder

thinking thoughts to themselves,

Not anywhere close

to reindeer or elves.

On a night just like this

in a stable so small,

One child was born

as a gift to us all.

Each year we remember

his miraculous birth,

And what He gave us

by His coming to earth.

Two parents sat, humbled,

exhaustion forgot.

As they took in the tree

and piles of gifts they had bought.

The presents are nice;

ones the kids will adore.

Yet their service to others

would mean so much more.

Then they vowed to remember

throughout the next year,

The night they recieved

a baby so dear.

His gift given in love,

no glory in sight.

Merry Christmas to all,

and to all a good night!