Trying to keep off the naughty list

My mom never had the chance to go to college. She never took a Psychology class and she never had a chance to sit in on a seminar on “how to win friends and influence others.” She grew up on an Amish farm and was forced to quit school after the eighth grade. Despite her simple upbringing, she’s always had a natural ability in knowing what motivates others. Her touch was so good that when I went off to college, I found her nuggets of wisdom on par or better than what I learned from those same Psychology professors. They could have learned a thing or two from her.

Here’s why I say that. One year when I was very young, my mom placed a gift under the Christmas tree. She didn’t say much about it. The small gift, covered in bright red and green wrapping paper, just appeared one day. There was no name on the package. When I asked who the gift was for, my mom was coy. Let me be clear, my mom has never been coy in her life. She has a natural poker face, but she’s not one to play games. If you want to know where you stand with her, you simply need to ask. She’s always been the epitome of openness and honesty. So, the gift without a name confused the heck out of me.

I asked my brothers who they thought it was for, but they brushed me off. I was not to be stopped. I played with my little “Army men” on the living room floor, so that when no one was looking, I could shake the box. I’m sure that I outsmarted no one, but I hoped I would get a hint of what was inside. I hoped for a jingle or a jangle that might give away the item. Of course, the box made no discernible sound.

Santa’s Coming to Town

I desperately wanted to know what was inside. Everyday in school we sang about Santa Claus. I worried I wouldn’t be able to hold on until Christmas Day. I feared a meltdown was coming.

He’s making a list

And checking it twice;

Gonna find out,

Who’s naughty and nice.

Santa Claus is coming to town.

Coal in my stocking

I begged my mom to tell me who the present was for. She seemed close to telling me, or at least giving me a hint, but she wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag. She was tight-lipped. She would answer my questions with questions of her own:

• Was I staying on the good list by helping out around the house? Was I doing my chores?
• What would Jesus think about how I had been with others? What would Santa think?
• Had I cleaned my room?

I worried that Santa had enough of my whining and was going to put coal in my stocking. I realize now that my mom put the little present out to create an incentive for my brothers and I. Be good and the gift would be mine. Let my bad behavior get the best of me and I would watch it thrown away.

Santa was onto me.

The big reveal

Finally Christmas Day came. I was amazed to see all the presents under the tree. Santa hadn’t skipped me. He remembered me. I couldn’t find the present that had been laid out before Christmas, but there were too many other things to distract me.

When we had opened all our presents, my mom walked into the kitchen and came back with the present. My eyes lit up in recognition. It was going to be best gift yet. I couldn’t wait. My mom walked past me though. Instead of handing the gift to me, she handed it to my dad. He took his time opening the present like the paper was made of fine silk. You know the type. I watched my dad and thought to myself, “He’s opening my present.”

Yea, how embarrassing now.

The thought that counts

When he finally lifted the paper back, however, it revealed not the latest Matchbox or Hot Wheels car or a GI Joe Action Figure, but a leather wallet. A stinking wallet. Oh, how boring. But to my dad, it was like he had just been given a toy chest full of toys.

“Oh, you can have it dad.”

My mom got me. She got me good. She used the gift to put the focus back on Jesus and Christmas. Her little gift reminded me that Christmas is not about the presents we get, but the presents we give to others.

Oh, thank you Mom.

Related stories:

• An Amish girl leaves home to create a new way of life
• Four memories of my Amish grandparents
• It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!
• Trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve