We grabbed the stockings and headed to the store. We’d done this last year too, so the girls knew the drill: pick out small toys and candy to put in the stocking for a girl or boy whose family couldn’t afford the extra expenses of Christmas. Once filled, we’d bring the stockings back to our church and they’d be used as part of a shopping event for area families.
The ironic part is our church which is about a 15 minute drive from our house and in a different township brings all the stuff right back to our town to distribute them. My daughters go to school every day with the kids that were going to get the stockings we filled.
In the store, red socks in hand, Ellie and Harper picked out things they wanted for Christmas and put them in. Stuffed animals and whoopie cushions, gum and Sour Patch Kids. They are professional kids who know what other kids want.
Except when it came time to leave, Harper lost her mind. She wanted the whoopie cushion. She didn’t want to give it to someone else. She wanted that delicious gum. Santa needed to bring her that stuff, she didn’t want someone else to have it.
We left the store with a very unhappy five year old and a slightly annoyed seven year old as she too realized the injustice involved in this shopping excursion for someone other than themselves.
Bless their little bratty hearts.
I feel like we talk all the time about others and serving them. We often pray at bedtime for those not warm in beds or with a place to stay out of the rain. We remind them often as we’re driving or shopping or traveling that so many people don’t get to do these things and it’s not normal for a lot of the kids they are growing up around.
We talk and talk and talk. We show and show and show. We model and model and model. We share and share and share.
I felt like they were–if not mastering the art of caring for other–at least aware of their privilege and excess.
I was wrong.
A week or two later, Ellie’s teacher sent home information about their Christmas party. This year they were doing a party in a box. The premise is you fill a shoe box with a juice box, a salty treat, a sweet treat, and a unisex toy that costs about $5. The kids are to wrap their boxes and bring them to school. On the day of the party, they sit in a circle and pass boxes around at teacher direction. Everyone ends up with a different box to open and enjoy.
It’s kinda brilliant, actually.
As we left the church parking lot Saturday night, we headed to Target to fill Ellie’s box. At the bottom of the instruction sheet the teacher sent, there was an invitation to send in more than one box if you could afford to so that kids who couldn’t supply one would be able to participate. I told Ellie she could pick out enough stuff to send in a few extra boxes since we’d already be shopping and it would be easy to share with others.
She immediately said she didn’t want to do that and got mad.
What? Why don’t you want to bring in some extras for kids that might not get presents? You’re not buying this with your own money–it’s our money, you just get to pick out some stuff and wrap it up!
Nope. She was adamantly against bringing in more than her box.
At this point, I started crying. What the hell? What were we doing wrong that our kids just didn’t want to share but actively fought against it? Who were these horrible little human beings we are raising? Could we get new ones? Perhaps the ones that don’t have anything and would be a little more grateful for their things and also aware of the needs of others?
I realize being self-aware at five and seven is hard. I get that when your parents shield you from much of what goes on in the world but expect you to be compassionate and tender-hearted when you live in a bubble is ironic, but shouldn’t they be a little better about this? It doesn’t even require sacrifice on their parts. We’re not taking their money away. We’re not asking them to give up things. We’re not taking anything from them to give to others. We’re just sharing our abundance with others.
And they are completely against it.
I don’t even have a redeeming story or idea with this post, I’m just sharing how selfish my kids are. You’d think after years of making a point to share with others and to give so much, we’d be getting good at this.
We’re still fighting against it at every turn though. Maybe that’s the point–that some things never get easier, you just keep doing them anyway. Like getting up early to go to the gym every morning. I’ve been doing that since May and it’s still a fight every single day. I imagined that eventually I’d bound out of bed, ready for the hour of sweating I’d been doing for months and months. Not excited, but at least accepting.
But every morning I still think about not doing it, dream about skipping the workout. Maybe I’m more like my kids than I realize.
At Target, I bought enough stuff for three Christmas boxes. I ignored my daughter’s protests, told her it broke my heart she didn’t want to make the extra boxes, and did it anyway. The next day she excitedly wrapped up all three shoe boxes. She didn’t want to carry the others to school so Chris had to drop them off. I asked her if it embarrassed her to carry more than one and she said no so I have NO IDEA why this was such a big deal.
I still don’t get it.
As a parent, I make my kids eat vegetables at dinner even though they dislike most of them. I send them to bed at 7:30 because they need to be rested and ready for school the next day. They have to brush their teeth twice a day even though their father doesn’t follow this rule. I require them to take a bath every other day so they’re not the stinky kids at school. And I make them share: with each other, with people they don’t know, with people they will never meet.
It’s all painful and hard. They fight us at every turn, but I know because I’m older and wiser and I read things on the internet, that most of what I’m requiring them to do will be beneficial for them, either short or long term or both. I’m the expert and they’re the students. I have knowledge to share with them! And I will shove it down their throats if I have to.
So that’s what we’re doing this Christmas at the Graham house–shoving sharing down our kids’ throats. It’s as magical as it sounds.
Merry Christmas.
Ah, Mary, I hear you. There is joy in being a parent and also heartbreak. Some kids “grow up” and despite our best efforts, others never do. A quick look at society tells us this. The miracle is that despite the disappointment, we still love their “bratty little hearts.” I so admire your honesty. My best guess is that your girls are going to grow into loving, unselfish beings because you are giving them the gift of a good example. Merry ten days before Christmas!
Thanks Marjorie! I hope you’re right with that guess. Merry Christmas! 🙂
Who are these horrible little beings? Can we get new ones? This speaks to me on a cellular level. I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks this. I feel like I’ve failed miserably. Merry Christmas to us all.
I feel like the failure syndrome comes with the parenting territory–just keeping doing what you think is right and cross your fingers. That’s what I’m doing. 😉
There will be times when your girls will unexpectedly want to help someone, give something away, do some good. That is the time to encourage and enable it. Don’t miss those opportunities. You keep teaching with the school and church projects and let the girls lead when the spirit moves them.
Good point, yes. Thanks Kathie.
So cute, keep teaching them and someday they will wake up and be just like their wonderful momma! Then you will wonder where all the years went and where those funny little girls are 🙂
Hang in there and enjoy every minute
Oh, man. Good point, Lisa. I’m already aware of how fast their baby and toddler years went. Blah.
I’m really curious about the extra boxes. Do you think there is a possibility that she thought the other children would feel embarrassed that another student provided their box? It’s so hard to get in their heads sometimes and understand what they’re thinking. Because I know for a fact that neither of them are horrible children. Merry Christmas to your family Mary!
I have no idea! I’m going to bring it up after Christmas and see what happens. Thanks for the encouragement and Merry Christmas Welton family! 🙂
This is a wonderful post, so honest and relatable. My now 10 year old did the very same thing. And still refuses to do my “little kindnesses” advent calendar. But here’s the thing..she is the sweetest, kindest, most caring child. She’s the first to check on someone who looks like they’ve gotten hurt, she is very emotionally aware and always checking in on people, she is thoughtful and generous in 100 different ways. But this holiday giving thing is still a struggle. She’s gotten better over the years–now she at least thinks of others at the holiday time–but we are still far from where I want us to be. It could be the complete narcissistic tendency of children or the tenacious grasp on the magic of Christmas where they refuse to believe that no one could possibly be hurting or hungry if Santa can whip around the globe in one night. Sigh. I guess, I’m just saying I have hope–especially knowing I have parent allies in trying to raise generous souls!
YES. I wonder if the Santa myth is sending mixed messages. Why in the world don’t all kids have presents if Santa comes to our houses while we sleep and gives us stuff? Such a good point, Sarah. Thanks for the encouragement and we will raise those grateful kids if it kills us. 🙂
Mary, i love that your so honest about this topic. I myself have always tried to instil that sharing with others less fortunate is important. My children have taken it to heart. This year we are the less fortunate,due to circumstances not in our control,it breaks my heart to have to tell my children that we cannot afford to help with these little extras this year and that we already have so little. My son offered to just give his wrapped presents, just so he could feel like he had helped. I am thankful for this. But I am sure your struggle is immense, your girls are watching and I know your caring is noticed by all.
Thanks for the encouragement, Andrea. I’m sorry you’re in a tough situation this holiday season and I’m praying you see the unexpected goodness of strangers and family members as we head into Christmas weekend.
Loved this one. I honestly wonder if maybe, deep down, Ellie might have felt like giving extra boxes might have made her own feel less special. I could be way off, and I’m not saying that it gives anyone a right NOT to share. But at that age, I can remember being SO PROUD of whatever I brought in to school. My Valentine box was going to be the most beautifully decorated. My birthday cupcakes were going to taste the best. My (whatever) was going to BLOW EVERYONE’S MIND. But would I have felt like it was still the best if I knew there were going to be others that were EXACTLY the same? Probably not. It would have taken some of the fun away.
I think you’re right though. That age is just TOUGH. Old enough to realize there are people out there who don’t have anything but not quite old enough to realize what it means to really help someone out. At that age, a homeless person needed help, but the people in my class were obviously just like me, ya know?
Either way, you’re teaching those girls great qualities.
Maybe that’s it–I still have no idea. I’m going to bring it up again after Christmas and see what she says. I might just never understand a second grader’s mind. *dramatic sigh*
Thanks, Kate. 🙂
That’s exactly what I used to have to tell my daughter every night that no way is she going to be the “stinky kid at school”. And she did not have a very giving heart as a child either. Even though we tried so hard to instill that in her. However, I can say that now that she’s 19 she is one of the most giving people I know. So keep on fighting the good fight. It is sinking in. Believe it or not. And Merry Christmas to you all.
That’s so encouraging to hear, Maureen! Thank you, and Merry Christmas to you and your family too.