Finding Joy in Giving

Thanks to Guest Blogger Amy for sharing her experience in giving.

“Rather than exchange gifts with each other this Christmas, why don’t we pick some children in need and give our presents to them?”  Mrs. Nielsen, my third grade teacher queried.  “All in favor, raise your hands!”  Travis, Beth and Heidi all raised their hands.  The rest of us, who had our heads screwed on straight, kept our hands decidedly down.

Of course Travis raised his hand I thought, he’s rich; he’ll get all the Christmas presents he wants anyway.   I knew for a fact that Travis and his two older sisters each had private horseback riding lessons, a privilege I sincerely coveted.   I also knew my parents didn’t have the money to ‘pony up’ for such a luxury.

Why was Mrs. Nielsen trying to ruin our fun Christmas tradition?  At church my teacher said it was more blessed to give than to receive, but I didn’t believe it.  I liked getting something myself a whole lot better than giving something to someone else.

Luckily my vote was in the majority and my classmates and I once again exchanged gifts with each other.  Phew, crisis averted.

And now a few decades (or so) later I still LOVE to get presents, and I’m embarrassed to admit I probably still like receiving better than giving.  But even I have to admit, giving feels really good sometimes.

One Christmas season, my parents’ friends’ daughter (ya follow me?), who worked as a social worker, decided she wanted to help provide Christmas presents for all the families on her caseload.  My parents asked my siblings and me if we wanted to participate in the gift buying.  This time my hand went straight up in the affirmative.  My assignment was to buy a present for an eight year old girl.  She had specifically asked for a baby doll.  Probably my favorite, Christmas present of all time had been the Mandy doll I received when I was six years old.  Mandy and I went through thick and thin together and were bonded for life, so I was thrilled to be able to buy a doll for another little girl.

I spent a lot of time in the department store picking just the right doll.  After  I made my choice I couldn’t help but remember how, as a child, I had longingly looked at the pictures of the extra clothing and accoutrements shown on the doll box or  pamphlet  that were all sold separately.  I had always wanted those extra accessories, but like horseback riding lessons, they were dividends I never received.

However, I decided one particular eight year old girl on a social worker’s caseload was going to get the extras too.  I really didn’t have the extra money, but sometimes you do have to throw caution to the wind. I bought a bathtub, a stroller and a couple of extra outfits. I felt so privileged to be able to buy these small things for this young girl. I imagined her looking at the “extras” on the pictures on the box  and feeling glorious that she had all the paraphernalia too.

I heard from my parent’s friends that the little girl had really liked the doll, but I bet all the joy she had playing with her doll didn’t match all the joy I’d felt buying for her.