To be honest, there is nothing in this world that I need or want which I couldn’t buy for myself. I feel extremely lucky for the life that is afforded to me. I am on the path to get a finance degree at the college of my choice, I have a healthy and (usually) happy family, and home where I am provided for quite well. Some people don’t have it so easy.
Last Christmas morning, as my family crowded around the piles upon piles of presents under the tree, my mom handed me an envelope which I opened and found a $100 donation in my name to the YWCA of Columbus, which provides help to impoverished women.
Next, I unwrapped a funky-chic Boho Doll that had been created by disabled citizens. I started crying because these were the most meaningful gifts I had ever recieved. Whereas opening a brand-new pair of shoes or a new iPad would have provided momentary joy, by that time next week, it would have lost all appeal. The sentiments of these gifts will stick with me forever.
My brother recieved a donation in his name to the American Heart Association, which we have a heart walk every year in honor of my grandpa who passed 10 years ago of a heart attack. Alec didn’t seem nearly as impressed by this “gift” he hadn’t “asked for” as I had been.
My new “tradition” is rather than asking for gifts for myself, to ask for donations to others. I don’t care about the presents underneath the tree. I wish more people would put aside their own desires and remember the true meaning of Christmas. Besides, it feels so much better to give than recieve.