My boys have a bad case of the gimmes. And the early arrival of the holiday season is only making it worse. Breadan has already circled every single toy in the Target and Toys R Us catalogs, with the exception of princess and Barbie gear. He then stapled together seven sheets of paper to create a scroll for recording how much money all his gifts would cost, carefully adding it all together, remote control car by remote control car. He’s smart enough to round up (no $0.99 for this kid) and counted by tens to a whooping grand total of $1,940.00!
Okay, I thought. This is fine for a math lesson. But not so much for a life lesson.
So Mark and I have been trying to figure out to how help them see outside themselves and their ever-growing list of wants, wants, wants. Especially considering that last year, they were the recipients of another family’s kindness and generosity. My, how quickly we forget.
I did a little online searching and found a few good options that will allow them to actively participate in giving: One is at Bellefaire, where they have Wish Lists — 2,300 of them in fact! — written by the children and teens they serve. Each list contains only two items, one “need” like cold weather gear and one “want.” This in and of itself is eye-opening for boys like mine who wouldn’t think of gloves or boots as a worthy Christmas present. Maybe something you get, sure, but not something you actually ask for. So we’re going over on Wednesday to sift through the lists until we find some written by boys aged 4 and 7 and then it’s off to Target.
Then there is Providence House, which is a “crisis nursery” (that name sort of says it all, doesn’t it?). Their holiday wish list was sad to even read because it had such basic needs on it: diapers and wipes, toilet paper and laundry detergent, canned veggies and baby formula. We talked about it tonight at dinner and the boys were amazed that someone could lack such basic items. Braedan wanted to make sure that the kids still got gifts from Santa, which I answered in a roundabout way — “Well, yes, because they’re still good children, they haven’t been naughty, but usually only one gift.” (I didn’t want to ruin the magic of Santa but also didn’t want to let him take the responsibility of these children off anyone else’s hands.) Austin immediately suggested we count out the money in our change jar so we could go to the grocery store and start filling boxes. We spent the next hour on the dining room floor, stacking out coins, Braedan carefully counting the nickels and quarters while I tackled the dimes and pennies, and discovered we had an impressive $77 (not including the $5 worth of quarters we set aside so Mark can park near the courthouse). That, coupled with the change in Braedan’s “give” jar and whatever else they find over the next two weeks ought to make for a lot of canned veggies.
I figure if we can turn even just a little of their get-get-getting into give-give-giving — and actually make it exciting and enjoyable — then we’ve done a pretty good job.