Re: Happy Holidays All...

[Guest guest]

> Wow! I say as I wipe the tears from my face!

What a wonderful way to make memories.

Merry Christmas to you n yours!

aka glass_wolfe

> The Simple White Envelope

>

>

>

> It's just a small white envelope stuck among the branches of our

Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has

peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.

>

> It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas -- oh, not the

true

> meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it -- the

overspending,

> the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle

Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma -- the gifts given in

desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

>

> Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual

shirts, sweaters, ties, and so forth. I reached for something special

just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way. Our son ,

who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school

he attended.

>

> Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team

> sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in

sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing

holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their

spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As

the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was

wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect

a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not

> afford.

>

> Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And

as each

> of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his

tatters with

> false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge

defeat. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, " I wish just

one of them could have won, " he said. " They have a lot of potential,

but losing like this could take the heart right out of them. " Mike

loved kids -- all kids -- and he knew them, having coached little

league football, baseball, and lacrosse.

>

> That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went

to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling

headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.

>

> On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside

telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His

smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in

succeeding years. For eachChristmas, I followed the tradition -- one

year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey

game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home

had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the

last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children, ignoring

their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad

lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

> As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents,

but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.

You see, we lost Mike last year due to cancer. When Christmas rolled

around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up.

But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in

the morning it was joined by three more. Each of our children,

unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for

their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even

further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed

anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope.

>

> Love and Peace Always,

> Shaun and Barb

>

>