Seeing the Unseen
Christmas is a time of year when blessings surround us. We see most of them—but some remain unseen. Like the message behind a gift.
The older I get, the more I appreciate just how much my life has been affected by my family and our family traditions at Christmas. One in particular.
My Uncle Jim would arrive early for dinner every Christmas Eve wearing a Santa hat perched on his forehead at a slight forward angle, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Before dinner, he would unzip the bag and display his treasures under the tree—gag gifts haphazardly wrapped, not in bright holiday wrapping paper, but drab old newspapers—replete with the scent of newsprint.
Christmas Eve was a small and unassuming event in our home. Five siblings, two uncles (Jim and Joe), my father, and me. Conspicuously missing was my mother. She had died prematurely of cancer at age forty-five, leaving my father alone to raise six kids. My uncles, both on my mother’s side, were confirmed bachelors, and were especially helpful to my father at this time of year.
Our Christmas Eve dinner was a humble affair—what you might expect from two bachelors and a widower. We enjoyed “Uncle Joe’s hamburgers,” so named for his secret recipe—and that he was the only one authorized to cook them. Throw in some potato chips, generic potato salad, mediocre store-bought coleslaw and that was often our no-frills menu.
After dinner, we gathered around the tree, and Uncle Jim would slip on his Santa hat again and pass out his gag gifts. Every gift was unique and tailored to a current interest in the life of each recipient. Taped to each gift was a handwritten poem that focused on that recipient’s interest and hinted at how the gift complemented it. For example, when I was a college student, I grew a mustache. My gag gift that year was a set of mini-curlers (intended for a doll) to curl my mustache. Everyone attempted in vain to guess what each gift was before it was unwrapped. Our guesses were pathetic and added to the laughter of our gift-opening ritual.
Over the years, as our family grew, he wrote poems and curated gag gifts for our spouses as well. Every Christmas, the tradition became more challenging to pull off, yet he faithfully executed it with passion and precision for over twenty years. Uncle Jim passed away several years ago—and as I look back nostalgically—these “gag gifts were no joke.” You see, it wasn’t lost on me that his effort spoke as much to his commitment to us—as to his creativity.
When I reflect on this tradition, he should not have had time for this optional exercise—especially at the busiest time of year. Not bad for a guy whose day job was president of a publishing company that published a popular national family magazine, fittingly named Ideals—since it celebrated family ideals.
“Blessed are they who see beautiful things in
humble places where others see nothing.”
Camille Pissarro
It occurs to me we rarely find time to reflect on how our life has been inspired by others, and we often miss seeing beautiful things in humble places. It’s easy to miss what’s right in front of us. This Christmas Eve tradition helped me realize that seemingly insignificant gag gifts can be among the most memorable we will ever receive. In retrospect, every gag gift I received was one more investment in my emotional bank account, one more deposit in my memory bank. One more Christmas with an uncle who came alongside my father and his six kids during a crucial time of life.
This tradition reinforced the notion that simple things in life bring the most joy—and that the ultimate value lies not in the gift—but in the message behind the gift. The message that conveys our worth to the giver.
For me, Christmas is an annual reminder that blessings—large and small—are all around us. The smell of pine needles in the air, gingerbread cookies in the oven, hot chocolate on the stove. Children squealing in delight at the prospect of receiving their favorite gifts, joyful voices blending together at the dinner table—as everyone talks at the same time, the chaos and the creativity of a large family, and even silly family traditions that excite us, unite us, and cover us like a warm blanket, every holiday season.
This Christmas, focus on “seeing the unseen”—that special “behind the scenes” person—or the humble act of kindness; that makes your Christmas warm and meaningful. After all, the richest blessing of Christmas is not the gifts themselves, but the message behind the gift, and the people who bestow them—even when they’re wrapped in newspaper.
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Something to Chew On: What is the most meaningful gift you ever received for Christmas in your life? What made it so meaningful?
