It is Christmas time. People running crazy to pick up those last few gifts, the supermarkets packed with people getting everything from turkey to hot dogs for their Christmas dinners. The Salvation Army bells’ can be heard here and there. Every radio stations playing Christmas music nonstop. The greats like Bing Crosby’s ‘‘White Christmas’’ and Elvis’ “Blue Christmas” bellow from the stereo systems of countless vehicles. I smell the scent of pine as I pass by yet another person selling Christmas trees. Every house seems to have some sort of decoration to let the world know, it’s Christmas time.

My brothers, Jacob and Matthew are busily counting all the presents under our tree and arguing over what the odd shaped boxed might contain, and most defensively stating that they have the most presents. I watch with amusement from the couch while enjoying a mug of hot chocolate. I glance over to the fireplace and notice that there is an extra stocking hanging there. Thoughts race though my mind: “Are we having a surprise guest?” “Do I have another sibling I don’t know about?” “Maybe one of us has so many presents we get two stockings!” or “What if she decided Rascal, our dog, needs one?”

Puzzled I headed to the kitchen with my empty mug, where my mom was baking cookies. I knew she would have an answer. “Mom, why is there an extra stocking hung at the fireplace?” I asked. She put down her spoon and began, “That stocking is for Jesus.” I grabbed another cookie while she continued, “Every year we buy presents for our families, and friends, our co-workers and kids overseas. I wonder how many of those gifts are bought out of obligation. We give knowing that we’ll probably get a gift in return, or to ease our guilty conscious because we have so much while others are struggling to survive.
Baby Jesus was a gift to us, and the greatest gift of all time. He came, he grew up, experienced humanity, and then he died for us. He gave us much more than we can ever imagine, and he did it just because he loves us. He didn’t come because he felt obligated; he came because he cared for us. Jesus is a king. The wise men realized this and brought him gifts. He is still a king. Shouldn’t we be honoring him with gifts even now? What do you think He wants for Christmas? It is His birthday after all.”

I pondered that question the rest of the day. ‘What would Jesus like for Christmas?’ ‘What can I give him, just because I love him?’ As I crawled into bed, an idea popped into my head. I knew what to do!

“Wake up sleepyhead! It’s Christmas!” my brothers’ yelled as they jumped on my bed. “Come on! Lets open presents!!” Presents! I remembered what I was going to do. “Ok, ok I’ll be down in a minute,” I said as I hurried them out of my room. I had work to do and it had to be fast! I raced around, grabbing things from all over my room and headed downstairs.

All of the presents were opened, wrapping paper was all over the floor and the dog was loving it. The boys were playing with the new toys they got, while dad was trying to figure out how to work the DVD player so he could watch his new movie. I looked over at mom and asked “What did you put in Jesus’ stocking?” She smiled and said, “Why don’t you open it and see?” I went over, pulled it off the mantle and opened it. There was a dollar bill inside. “A dollar?” “Yes, Anne,” she said. “I’m giving Jesus all my money, and with it all the worry that comes when finances are tight. Now, how about you, what are you giving Jesus on his birthday?”

I pulled out a pair of sunglasses. “Jesus can have my eyes. He can be my sunglasses to shield my eyes from things that are not of him.” Next came a slipper. “Jesus can have my feet. I will go wherever he takes me.”
Eyeshadow: Jesus can have whatever I’ve tried to make myself, whatever I’ve tried to hide behind. He can create my ‘new look’.
A cd: Jesus can have my song. May it always be pleasing to him.
A picture I took: He can have my talents. My art. I want it all to be for him.
My journal: He can have my hopes and my dreams.

Mommy and daddy sat there with tears in their eyes. “Well, you sure have taught me a lesson today.” My dad said. “I think I need to be a little more giving with even the small parts of my life. Thank you for helping me realize that.”
I smiled at them both and pulled one last item out of the stocking, a paper heart. “I give Jesus my heart. And with it my life. Everything I am, my whole living being. I give to Jesus on his birthday. I think that’s what he wants most.”
My parents sat there, speechless, tears rolling down their cheeks. Then suddenly I was engulfed in arms full of hugs. I heard my mommy whisper “I think you’re right, that’s what he wants most.”





What can you give Jesus this Christmas?


Merry Christmas Everyone!