My Best Christmas Gift

It's Christmas Eve, which means I have yet to open all the packages underneath the tree. I don't know what rests in the boxes and bags, but whatever is there, it can't be better than the gift I already got.

My little boy is celebrating Christmas with me, for the first time.

Nick is almost five, but he's never really celebrated Christmas. Sure, Christmases happened around him, but he never took part in the celebrations. I'd take his hands and make him place ornaments on the tree. I'd take his hands and make him tear wrapping paper off his gifts. I tried to drag him along into the celebration rituals, but he seemed a bit oblivious to it all.

This year, though, Nick is there with us, really there. This Christmas Eve he's done so many of the things that, well, most any kid would do on Christmas.

It started with a present from Grandmother. He looked at it for a bit, and then he did something that any sneaky little kid would try to do--he started to rip it open. Silly, sneaky boy!

After the sun set we took a walk around the neighborhood to view the Christmas lights, and he looked at them in excitement. Before we came into the house, I took him to sit in front of the blinking snowflakes in our own yard. "Look," I said, "look." And he did. He looked and laughed and enjoyed.

We came into the house and I plugged in a string of lights that drape our living room wall. Nick's eyes lit up. "Look," he said, "look."

After that we brought out a cake. It's a ritual that Noah insists we keep--we have a birthday celebration for Jesus since, after all, Christmas is Jesus' birthday. We sang "Happy Birthday" and when the song ended Nick spoke some words, slowly, laboredly, as if it took a lot of thought to get them out. "Happy . . . birthday," he said.

When the birthday cake plates were finally cleared from the table, Noah decided he wanted to hang a few more Christmas ornaments. Noah pulled out five glittery silver balls and started to hang them. Nick came over and, without anyone's interference he picked up one of the balls and carefully hung it on a tree branch, then reached down to grab another and carefully hung it on a branch.

I started to cry.

The best Christmas gift isn't something that has wrapping paper or bows; it is being able to share Christmas--really share it--with both of my boys.