These past few years have been tough financially for many people, but Anita in New Mexico reminds us that we have survived hard times before:

“In the 1950's, my stepfather suffered a severe illness. Christmas had always been ‘light weight,’ although we didn't know it; there was love to go around and a great dinner.

On Christmas Eve, the doorbell rang and there stood a group of church people, not from our church, with gifts, some wrapped, others were secondhand, but they were new to us!!!! There were more gifts than we had ever seen before, and my mother made sure some went to other homes.

I hadn't experienced such a love of giving before, and it always makes my memories of Christmas special to the point that I enjoy helping where I can and just enjoying the day with my husband with food and remembering exactly what the day is all about.”

These days, we have a phrase, “Random acts of kindness.” Jo from Tennessee shared out an anonymous act of generosity can seem like a miracle to the recipient:

“In May of 1991, my husband died suddenly of a heart attack. I was a ‘stay at home’ mom of three boys, ages 6, 8, and 10. We had $10,000 in life insurance and debt up to our eyeballs. I was so afraid we would wind up homeless that Christmas was out of my mind, until the church secretary called me into her office and gave me an envelope with my name on it.

It had been left for me anonymously and even my name was stenciled on the front, so I could not identify the writing. It contained $100, and I will never forget it. 

My kids are grown and have their own homes now, but that gift made our Christmas easier when we were very sad and will be in my heart forever.”

Thanks, Jo, for sharing that, and we’re glad things are better for your family now. I hope your story encourages others to be generous to strangers in need. What might feel like a small gift to those who give it could be a miracle for those who receive it.

Jerry from Florida also shared a memory of a hard-time Christmas that was made wonderful by the generosity of others:

“My greatest Christmas was when I was five years old. My mother had taken my brother, sister and myself away from an abusive father, and we were on our own. To say we were poor would be an understatement. My mom rented an old house, and she supported us on a waitress’s wages. She refused to accept welfare and told us that as long as we had each other and love that we would make it. We had our own garden and even as small kids worked to help. We had so very little. Quite often, we had to drink powdered milk and eat bread and gravy three times a day. A hot dog was considered a luxury.

Christmas that year looked bleak. We had no money, but it was the happiest time of my life because we had love. Love of family and neighbors. There was one present for each of us kids that Christmas Eve as we went to bed.

On Christmas morning, we all came down to open our present. An unbelievable sight awaited us. We got to the door of the living room and our eyes widened. There were so many toys and presents that you couldn’t even hardly get in the room. Toy trucks!! Bicycles!!! Our joy and surprise were great.

We lived in a small town…Williamsfield, Illinois. Our neighbors knew we had so little. After us kids had gone to bed on Christmas Eve, the knocks on the door started. People from all over town brought things. That is the type of people I had the honor to grow up with. No government. No welfare. Just neighbors helping neighbors by living the Christian values we were all taught.

I think of that Christmas morning so long ago today and still get a smile and a tear. It was the greatest Christmas I ever had.

My mom went on to remarry to a great guy who adopted us. They worked hard to provide us a better life and live the American Dream. Mom went back to college after we were older and at the age of 38 graduated Summa Cum Laude and taught school for years. Today they live comfortably in retirement.

I think of those days and how poor we were, but I also think of the values instilled in me by a loving mother and a great community. Values that taught us about self-reliance and helping your neighbor. These were the greatest lessons learned from my greatest Christmas.”

Thank you, Anita and Jerry, for that reminder of what a difference it makes to have churches and communities that gather together to help those who are in need. We need that more than ever now, if our politicians would just stop waging war on our churches and communities.

Melvin  from Oregon wrote to share memories of a couple of Christmases that were made very special, thanks to a grandfather who never forgot what it was like to be a kid at Christmas.

“Christmas 1944: I am four years old and my dad is still overseas, so mom and I are staying with my grandparents. Christmas eve, it's time for me to hang up my sock. I'm just getting ready to hang it on the mantle when grandpa comes in. He has a giant sock and a big metal wash tub. I ask him what he is doing, and this is what he tells me:

‘I'm going to hang this big old sock up.’ He hangs his sock up then he puts the wash tub under the sock. He shows me that there is a hole in the toe of the sock, and it has a tennis ball in the hole. He then tells me that ‘when Santa comes tonight, he will start putting good stuff in his big old sock, and the tennis ball will fall out.’ Santa will keep stuffing his sock and the presents will fall into the wash tub, and he will get way more stuff than I will in my little old sock.

Well, I'm only four years old, but I know this ain't right. I go running to grandma and tell her that grandpa is going to cheat Santa. Grandma says, ‘Don't worry, because I know that Santa is much smarter than your grandpa is.’ So I go off to bed, but I am not happy.

Christmas morning comes. I run downstairs and see that my grandpa has a sour look on his face. I see my sock has all kinds of good stuff in it. I look at grandpa’s sock, and the wash tub is full. It has an old rubber boot with a big hole in it, a big half-rotten squash, some chunks of coal, an old broken shovel etc., etc. I guess grandma was right after all. Santa is smarter than grandpa.”

The next year, Melvin’s grandpa was still putting creativity into Christmas…

“Christmas 1945.  I am five years old, and we are still staying with my grandparents…My father was in Japan in the Second World War, his two brothers were in the European theater.  All three came home OK. I thank God for that and for all of the men that have gone before.

We are trimming the Christmas tree. Grandpa comes in, and he has all of these walnuts that he has painted silver and put a yarn loop on to hang them with. I think they’re neat, but that’s about it.

Christmas morning, I come down and start opening my presents. Grandpa says, ‘Why don't you open one of those walnuts?’ I say ‘Naw, I got to open my presents’… Well grandpa keeps after me. Finally, I say, ‘Okay!’  So I crack a walnut open, and a penny falls out. Well, NOW I'm opening walnuts!  There's dimes, nickels, and pennies.  When I get done, I have about a dollar fifty, and that’s big money in 1945.

…My grandfather thought enough of me to take the time to cut the walnuts open and take out the meat for grandma to cook with. Then he put a coin in and glued each one back together, just to make a little five-year-old boy happy on Christmas morning.

Sixty-five years later, I don't remember anything else I got that Christmas.  But I remember the walnuts and the love that went into making them. That might be something for young parents to think about... It really is the little things that count the most.” 

Thanks, Melvin, for giving us all something important to remember before we go frantically hunting for whatever the latest “hot” gift is. It’s not so much the gift that we remember years later, but the person who loved us enough to give it to us that matters.