Christmas was always a very special time of the year around our house as I was growing up.
Christmas was my mom’s favorite holiday and she always made the season full of magic and wonder for us kids.
I have numerous memories of baking cookies, searching for the perfect Christmas tree, and hiding presents around the house in hopes of surprising loved ones with that perfect gift.
While I could warmly recount many different Christmas mornings from years past, there’s one memory in particular that stands out and instantly makes me smile.
Myself as a Teenager
To understand the Christmas morning that I’m thinking of, you need a little backstory of myself as a teen.
In high school, I was somewhat of a nerd. I did play basketball all through school, with a track season or two thrown in there.
I was friendly with everyone, but I didn’t go ‘hang out’ with friends after school. Parties were not a thing for me either.
I was friendly with the teachers, Senior Class President, NHS member, and all the rest of that which comes with good grades and never getting into trouble.
I was also an introvert.
During my senior year, I remember being interviewed for a scholarship by a panel of my teachers. Mr. Schaar said he had heard me comment once that I didn’t think cell phones should be brought to sporting events. He asked me to elaborate on that.
I remember commenting that if a person is going to watch a basketball game, they should be watching the game, not talking on their phones. (Back then, the only thing you could do on a cell phone is talk.)
After high school, I went to Michigan Technological University for a couple of years, and then transferred to Central Michigan.
The Warning Ahead of Time
One year a week before Christmas, I believe it was either my first or second year of attending Tech, my mom came to talk to me in the kitchen.
“I want to talk to you about a present,” Mom said.
“What about it? What do you mean?”
“Well, sometimes we get presents that we don’t really want, but maybe need.” Mom smiled at me, hiding a secret behind her eyes.
“Like underwear or socks?” I asked.
“Maybe, but not quite,” she replied. “I just wanted to let you know ahead of time before you open your presents.”
“I’m sure I’ll like anything you got me, Mom.” I looked over at her and she smiled at me as she walked out of the kitchen.
Interesting, I thought.
Christmas Morning
With everything else going on for the holidays, I put the conversation with Mom out of my mind.
Christmas morning came and started as usual, with Mom waking us up around 5:00 A.M. to tell us that Santa had come in the middle of the night. (Yes, my sister and I were in college at the time, and my younger brother either 10 or 11 years old. Our ages didn’t matter with the importance of the arrival of Old St. Nick.)
All of us opened our stockings, dumping the collection of mixed nuts that had accumulated in the bottom of the stocking, into a large bowl.
We opened the presents that sat on the fireplace hearth, directly under our stockings. These were the presents from Santa, and it was our tradition to open Santa gifts and then move to the gifts that we bought for each other.
I don’t remember the Santa gifts from that year, or any of the other presents, except for one in particular.
I opened a small, rectangular box from Mom and Dad, slightly smaller than a shoe box. We don’t each take a turn opening presents, like some families do, so I wasn’t aware than anyone was watching me at the time. As soon as I tore off the wrapping paper, I lifted my gaze to my mom’s and our eye’s met. She smiled and shrugged, which was a common mannerism she would often do.
I realized that this was the present she had been warning me about in the kitchen a week or so ago.
I Don’t Need or Want a Cell Phone
The present was a bulky, yellow, construction style cell phone.
I had absolutely nothing against the look and size of the phone itself. What I was having issues with was the idea of having a cell phone at all. They were disruptive, rude objects that I didn’t feel I needed. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone anyway.
I smiled at my mom, resigned to the idea that the choice was taken out of my hands. Mom was worried about the long, wintery drive to Houghton. She wanted to keep me safe. I understood that.
What happened next, was the memorable part.
My younger brother had been involved in the unwrapping of all of his presents. He was probably unboxing a Nerf gun, a basketball, or whatever else 11 year old boys get for Christmas.
As I was removing the wrapping paper from the cell phone box, he noticed my present and then just lost it.
“Ashley got a cell phone?! I want a cell phone! How old do I have to be to get a cell phone?” He was indignant and ungrateful at the time, which is not characteristic for him.
Mom and I were glancing at each other and then back at him. She had never anticipated that her son would want what her 19 year old did not want.
I remember that he got up and stormed to his room, probably to hide the unexpected tears.
Later, my parents explained to him that 11 was too young for a cell phone, and that the only reason I was getting one, was because I lived so far away at college and had to drive in snowy conditions.
It took a few days, but I don’t remember any lingering resentment from David. He may not have handled the moment well, but he definitely did not continue to act like a spoiled brat. (He truly is, and always has been, the type of guy that will do anything for anyone.)
Lessons Learned
That particular Christmas morning taught me a great deal.
First and foremost, sometimes parents do know better than children. While a cell phone was the last present I would have asked for, it did provide some peace of mind for my mom, as well as a way for me to communicate to my parents if I ever needed to and was away from the landline in the dorms.
Second, I probably already knew this lesson, but that morning was a reminder we don’t always get what we want, and that’s okay. David ended up getting a cell phone once he turned 16 and started to drive and deliver pizzas as one of his first jobs. He didn’t need the phone at the age of 11, but for a 16 year old working child, it made sense.
Lastly, often the love behind the present is forgotten in our excitement for the actual product.
I once bought my mom this ugly, hideous green ring at a school Christmas store when I was in elementary school. I thought it was the most beautiful thing ever and proudly presented that ring to her one Christmas morning in a box that I wrapped all by myself at a school table.
Mom smiled, hugged me, and told me it was the most amazing thing she had eve seen.
When I was cleaning out her jewelry box after she passed away, tucked in a drawer next to Grandma’s engagement ring and an ID bracelet she had from high school, was that hideous, 25 cent ring.
It’s about the love, not the item.
Goals for Today:
- Do Some Last Minute Christmas Shopping
- Create Pinterest Pins to Generate Blog Traffic
- Hug my Kids