This is the first Christmas my children are no longer in school, for they both graduated from college this past May, at the conclusion of the Spring Semester.
It has given me this curiosity about what they will give me this Christmas, and not because I need any gift in particular, but because I know that there is no longer a teacher who will influence their choices. They are on their own now. What have they learned about gift-giving?
Throughout their in-school years, my children had quite a healthy share of teachers who had made a very big deal about the Christmas holidays.
It started in kindergarten with those simple crayon drawings that were their handmade Christmas cards elevated to the status of “Do not open until Christmas” gifts, carefully wrapped origami-style in gold-flecked tissue paper, and tucked into the branches of the tree.
Another year it was a “real ornament” that finally explained the mystery of their wanting me to buy popsicles and not ice cream all of November, without a single popsicle stick ever ending up in the trash can.
In middle school it was that amazing coupon book of chores they would willingly do extra, and without a single complaint if I were to just tear off their coupon and redeem it in the weeks to follow. Does any mother truly redeem those things, or do we all universally just treasure it in pristine condition, having the gift be our awe of what you – magician miracle worker teacher that you are – were able to put in that writing of ungrumpy willingness?
I expected the gifts to end with high school, yet they didn’t! Then surely college professors would not stoop to this elementary school practice, would they?
Then lo and behold, my children conspired the first year they were both away in college, sending me and their dad an early Christmas letter which included what they no longer expected us to do for them now that they were young adults and on their own. While our gift from them was this new “you don’t have to” freedom and release from our parental Christmas duties, they also assured us that they had learned well —from us. They knew of our family traditions, and more than respecting them, they loved them too. They promised they would continue them in their own new homes.
Blew me away. Surely we had not done that great a job in our parenting. And we didn’t… one of their college professors suggested the letter, asking them to understand how tough empty-nesting can be on parents during the holidays.
Teacher, thou art a Santa Elf of the highest calling. You know that, right?
