The ABC's of Being Missional North District Indiana UMC Pastor's Meeting

Not Again....

It happens each year. First there is a knock on the door.  Then the boxes of Christmas presents are delivered. It is a God-send. Sometime around Thanksgiving the children come home from school and start to tell all who will listen what they want for Christmas. Just like every other child, they want what they see on TV. They write and rewrite letters to Santa, they sit on Santa's lap, and they don't hesitate to tell Santa what they want. The excitement builds until Christmas day. Meanwhile, the mom has to sign up for gifts, bringing in the necessary documents to be sure they qualify. She leaves the names and ages of the children knowing that by Christmas every child will have a gift under the tree. It may not be exactly what they asked for but there will be something.   Year after year, while others are waiting in line to buy their presents, the "under-resourced" wait in line for the "free stuff".  The "free stuff" has been given by generous people who want to make a difference. It is a year in the making: dolls cleaned up, dressed and hair fixed, games sorted to be sure all the pieces are in place, stuffed animals washed and cleaned. It is all good stuff....really good stuff. It is much needed and much appreciated. When the children open their packages on Christmas Day, the excitement increases as they rip open one package after another. Their house is filled with joy!

Well, almost. The man of the house sits on the couch and watches his children open the packages. He senses their joy. He helps them put together the gifts they just opened. He enters into the fun, pitching the ball back and forth with his small daughter. He is thankful for the help. However, his stomach aches, and what is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year is awful to him. It is a yearly reminder that he doesn't make enough to provide for his children. He thinks of himself as less than a man. When the children start talking about Christmas he thinks, "No, not again". He works every day but the $5.15 he makes an hour ($180.00 per week take home pay) barely keeps food on the table. The odd jobs in the evening keep him away from his kids, but at least he is able to buy them shoes. Christmas comes and reality hits him: he will never make too much more than he makes now. It is the same year after year. He keeps a folder in his sock drawer where he places his pay stubs, his monthly bills, along with the family's birth certificates and social security cards. He keeps everything together so his wife can easily grab it: the folder is her ticket to secure "free" school supplies, "free" school clothing, "free" food from the local food pantries and “free" Christmas presents. He knows nothing is "free".

On the day the toys are delivered, he stays in the bathroom out of sight. He tries to keep some of his pride and reminds himself that everything that is "free" costs something. He learned long ago that "pride" is a small price to pay to see the joy on his children’s faces. On Christmas Day he is thankful, thankful for the gifts that his children are enjoying, and thankful that Christmas comes only once a year.