I want to tell you a story…
Once upon a time a young man and young woman got married at a very young age. Like most who marry quite young, their income was meagre at best. If they were comic strip characters, a fly might emerge when one of them opened a wallet. They ate a lot of rice and beans in those days.
The days were growing closer to their very first Christmas and it was with trembling that the young wife wondered about presents. They weren’t necessary, of course. They could do without. But in her heart of hearts she knew gifts mattered. There was something symbolic about opening a gift on Christmas morning, something that harkened to a much holier gift. Ever resourceful, she conceived of a plan.
She found a simple shoe box, wrapped it in Christmas paper, and cut a small hole in the top. Then, taking notebook paper and a pair of scissors, she cut strips of paper, dozens of them. These things sat on the kitchen table and, at every meal, she and her young husband would write down something each of them was thankful for and place it in the box. Gradually the little box began to fill with notes.
On Christmas morning, there were no gifts under the tree and no stockings filled with store-bought treasures. Instead, there was only one gift - the box full of thankfulness. Together, they opened the box and one by one read each note of gratitude aloud. I cannot tell you what each note said or the way in which each one touched their hearts. But I can say that this little gift - their first Christmas gift - meant so much to them that they continued the tradition.
Each year the thankfulness box emerged right after Thanksgiving and, as the little family grew, everyone participated. Even those too young to write would draw pictures of a house, a dog, a favorite toy and place it in the box. On Christmas morning the box would be filled with hundreds of notes. Before a single gift was opened (yes, there were now more than a few gifts under that tree) or a single bulging stocking unpacked, the whole family would read every single note from the thankful box. We would laugh and sometimes tear up as we were reminded of so many good gifts we had already received.
Yes, we. You see, the young couple was my mom and dad. And this tradition, still carried on today, is one of the sweetest things about the holiday season. I love writing and reading these notes, and I have witnessed first hand how this practice in gratitude can reshape the heart during a season that can be stressful and self-centered.
So, this year we have decided to pass on this gift. My husband and I are making Thankful Boxes to give as gifts, along with this story, to some of our friends and people he has had the pleasure to work with. I have loved making these simple little boxes and as I hand stamp the thankful cards I have even prayed that the tradition would be as meaningful to the recipient as they have been to me.