Lessons Learned

I have always enjoyed decorating our home for Christmas, especially adorning the tree with lights, treasured ornaments, and tinsel. I was no more than five or six when an act of disobedience taught me a memorable lesson. My parents had promised that we would decorate the tree after supper, and as I recall, I was first to finish, even declining dessert in the hope that everyone else would follow my lead. As it was, I don't think my parents or brother and sister ever deliberated longer over a meal.

I was excused from the table, but apparently anticipating my next move, my mother admonished me not to touch the tree until everyone else was ready. I was content only to sit and admire the unadorned tree for so long, and soon succumbed to the overpowering notion that everyone might appreciate my stringing the bubble lights rather than leaving the task to my father. It couldn't have been all that difficult; I had watched him perform the task effortlessly many times. Undaunted by my mother's warning, I grabbed the lights and climbed the ladder by the tree. No more than three lights were attached when I lost my balance, grabbed the nearest limb, and crashed to the floor, taking the tree and lights with me. Fortunately the soft boughs broke my fall, but the set of bubble lights was ruined. Although I was unhurt physically, I feared that my disobedience, however well-intentioned, would not only anger my parents, but surely invoke God's wrath and ensure that Santa Claus passed me by that year.

To their dying day decades later my parents demonstrated unconditional love for me, but never more memorably than on that night. Rather than punishment, they gave me hugs, kisses, and words of reassurance that they loved me, Santa loved me, and that more importantly, God loved me. It was, after all, God's love that was the underlying message of Christmas manifested in the gift of Jesus. Moreover, they told me that my life was God's gift to me, and that what I made of my life would be my gift to God who loves us unconditionally and forgives us.

I will never forget that night or the lessons learned. Each year when we begin decorating the tree, I reflect and remember fondly. I also string the lights before anyone else can do so.

Heavenly Father, giver of the perfect gift, help us to be obedient, truly penitent when we fail, and determined to be more loving, more understanding, and more forgiving. For the beauty that is Christmas and for each day, may we be thankful and ever mindful from whence our bounty flows. In Jesus' name. Amen.

--Charles "Spunky" C.