Because of the fiscal constraints we endured the duration of 2010, Christmas at my house this last December was the leanest it’s ever been. I mean it was very lean. In fact, my girls and I had almost zero to spend on each other. Any time before this year, I would have likely been very upset about that. And admittedly, there were times in December when I was quite down on myself for being in the spot where I am. But then, as I wrote about in Treatise on Life 2010, I really began to see God‘s role re-emerging for me, and once I saw and felt that, things got better quickly.
Mason Jar Thoughts
So, for our Christmas presents to each other, I bought some Mason jars, some nice stationary, got out pens and scissors, and the girls and I made our own Christmas presents to each other. (I even encouraged them to make them for their mom and step-dad, so you know, God’s spirit had really come over me.)
So this morning, I took one slip of paper out of each of the three jars. The messages?
1) A description of me as their dad: “Funny!”
2) A proclamation of sorts on what I believe was the 50th scrap of paper: “I’m running out of paper!”
3) “I think it’s cool that you write a blog :-)”
The other day I got one that said, “I’m glad you like space and moon stuff, like me.”
I could have gotten a tie from them, or an iTunes gift card or some other technical Mac something or something that would soon find its way into the far reaches of a closet, but because we had so little to give this year, we gave more than what we normally did in the way of things that will mean more and a lot longer.
In my girls’ jars, they got some of the quotes you’ve been reading on the daily Think About This. Yeah, it may have been too early for the twins to get that, they are still just 11 and deep thoughts and philosophy probably aren’t high in their register.
But someday, I hope and I pray that they’ll begin to open the jar day by day and read the thoughts that dear old dad thought were either entertaining or important to think about and then see the value of what’s been shared. For the girls’ jars, I didn’t run out of paper. I ran out of jar. But I’ve got to tell you, the three jars they gave me are full of joy and happiness, and something that won’t ever make it’s way into the far reaches of a corner, but instead, live in all corners of my memory.