I hate my kitchen countertops. They are 40 square feet of white laminate. Sprinkled around the countertop are large freckles where someone (ok…me) has set hot pans or dishes down and burnt the expansive white laminate. Sometimes I will think to myself, “Gosh, my life would be almost perfect if I had granite countertops. And while I’m at it, I’d like to put hardwood floors in the playroom and bedrooms…” So $10,000 worth of daydreaming later and I am left feeling depressed because we can’t afford these things, my husband works six days a week at two jobs, and my tears are soaked up by the mountain of coupons I am clipping. Sigh.
This seems to be happening a lot more often these days as the Great Recession is stripping hope away from me that things will be getting easier soon. I will wish we could afford to go to Disney World once a year (and NOT stay at a Super 8). Or I’ll wish we could travel around Europe for Christmas. I’ll dream about furniture that hasn’t been handed down to us. Heck, just furniture that matches! I inevitably end up sad because we don’t have those things and I just KNOW that if we did, our life would be better.
So, in November, the notice went out around the kids’ school that each class would be sponsoring a child for Christmas. Great, I thought. It must be nice to put your name in a hat and know that your child’s Christmas would be completely paid for. It must be nice to know that no matter how many kids you have, someone will be there to pick up the pieces. No consequences. No hard work.
The family we are sponsoring is a single mom with six kids ranging in ages from one year to ten years old. I figured I would give each of my kids ten bucks to donate and wash my hands of it.
I know it’s horrible to admit that I feel this way. I have often done charitable work with my whole heart and each year I get a little more jaded as I see people demanding they receive help and expecting it. No thanks. No relief behind their eyes. Just taking the turkey, closing the door, and finishing their X-Box game. Sigh.
My oldest child’s teacher decided that the best way to teach the fifth grade about giving was to take them to Wal-Mart and let them buy the gifts for the two girls they were sponsoring. I tagged along as a chaperone. I took three boys and we crowded around the cart and list to see what we would be in charge in getting.
This is what the 9 year old asked for:
a pillow (she didn’t have one for her pallet on the floor)
a warm blanket (it’s chilly on the floor in their apartment)
a new shirt to wear for school (although it’s a public school they have to wear uniforms and she only has one uniform that her mom has to wash several times a week)
and a Barbie.
I couldn’t believe it. I was really holding back my tears. A pillow. For Christmas. I found out from the teacher at lunch that this little girl and her two sisters were living in this tiny apartment with their mom while Mom was trying to get enough money together so that she and the six kids could live together in a nice trailer. The youngest boy had never even lived with his mother. The other children were living with various grandparents, some with cousins, all over the place.
All my cynicism melted away and I felt like a twenty year old again, determined to be charitable, determined to make a difference. At least for two little girls. And who knows, maybe we’ll have time to help the mother next year. Maybe teach her a skill. I think I can just relax for now. It took me and the teacher 3 hours to wrap all the gifts for our girls. A Barbie house is on its way.
I’ve learned a lesson about giving. Just give. Don’t think too hard about what the results may be. Someone will appreciate your efforts. Maybe this will be the best Christmas ever for two little girls in Greensboro.
Last night my kids made Rudolph cupcakes on my ugly countertops. In my warm kitchen, with a smiling Dad, and a Christmas tree sparkling in the living room. Thank you God for letting me feel the full brunt of my anger and disillusionment with mankind before bringing me back to Earth and humbling me all over again. I feel much better, thank you.
-- Bethanie Edmondson
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5 comments:
I was so into having the designer kitchen. Pouring over remodeling books. Then ten years later I redid our kitchen on a few thousand dollars and laminte countertops. We are talking formica aren't we. Though I did get the faux granite. I honestly could care less now. I am more frustrated that the kitchen looks a wreck constantly than the fact is was a 'design on a dime' special. You get to point and you realize time is clipping along so fast -- you'll never read all the books you want, never have the kitchen you want. Nothing will ever be as neat as I want. all i can say is that prospect doesn't seem as terrifying as it used to.
It's true! My focus has been completely changed since I took my son's class shopping for charity Christmas gifts. It's really is amazing how God can help you focus...He knew I needed it, I didn't even have to ask! ;)
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I'm not sitting by the fireplace pining for built-in bookcases anymore after this Beth. Well -- ok -- I'm STAYING AWAY from the fireplace so I don't pine... Seriously, it's a good lesson in stuff don't make the (wo)man! Thanks so much for sharing!
Bethanie- this was a really great piece! thank you so much for sharing. this christmas, my mom sponsored a grandmother taking care of her 2 grandchildren since their mom was in prison and the father was nowhere to be found. made my mom realize that finding the perfect stocking stuffers was just not that big of a deal.
This experience had really taken the stress out of Christmas this year!
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