She said she was sorry. I found myself confused. Obviously, my memories where on a different plain than hers.
“Mother, I think I missed something. Why are you apologizing?”
“We never had money, you never had much for Christmas.”
I never had much, except for memories of love, joy and warmth.
I never had much, but the precious memories of receiving a simple gift or two, minus a yearning for things that a child should never expect.
I never had much, except for sharing my room for one night a year with my brother – our unspoken way of waking up early and doubling up on the excitement together to see what Santa had left for us under the tree.
When I think of mother apologizing to me for (her idea of) slight Christmas’s, I am not reminded of the one or two gifts that we received every year, no…instead, I wonder if she had anything else on her mind that went unspoken for too many years.
Moms, and fathers, can be hard on themselves.
I do not have memories of ripping open stacks of Christmas gifts. I do have memories of love, along with awe over the precious child, Jesus, the Messiah, born in a stable. As far as I am concerned, there was nothing missing.
Love does not come from a package, but it is the grandest gift of all.