As Christmas approached, our family was suffering from my spring layoff and inability to find steady work during what eventually became a fourteen-month period. As an officer with a start-up company, I had already been receiving a reduced salary. But the president took the company in a new direction, the plan had failed, and everyone in the company had lost their jobs.
It was going to be a lean Christmas. My wife Sara and I realized that we wouldn’t be able to provide the same bounty of gifts our three children usually received. All three were old enough to understand what was going on and didn’t have high expectations, so that helped their parents’ guilty feelings.
Then someone called from our church, saying we needed to pick up a present. I was confused but drove over to discover an incredible amount of food – not only for Christmas but for weeks and weeks beyond: cans in bundles from a warehouse grocery, a mix of staples and fun foods, a few handy items for around the house. All the church staff would say is that an anonymous donor had provided everything. The back of my minivan was practically full.
When I got home, I put the kids to work, helping me unload the car, storing the cans in the garage, the frozens in the outdoor freezer, and everything else inside the house. Then we found an envelope tucked inside a box. It contained hundreds of dollars in cash and gift cards, earmarked for Christmas gifts.
I was overwhelmed. Tears came to my eyes. My oldest son said, “It’s the love of God, Dad. It’s the love of God.”
We sent a thank-you note to the church, but it didn’t seem like enough. Along about then, my father and stepmother found in storage one of those classic silver Christmas trees that were popular in the mid-20th century and gave it to us. In deciding how to decorate it, Sara had the idea to create a gratitude tree.
She bought a big box of round silver and gold ornaments and gathered the family. Wielding a permanent marker, Sara said, “Although we don’t have much this year, a lot of people have been helping us through one method or another. Think about all the ways we’ve been helped. Call out an idea, and I’ll write it on an ornament.”
Of course, the magnanimous anonymous gift came first. Then the ideas flowed as we remembered the many ways through which people had reached out to our family.
Before I was laid off, we had paid in advance for a portion of a Disney World vacation. Months after the layoff with no job in sight, Sara and I planned to cancel the trip because we didn’t have the money for the remainder and could use the refund. Arguing that we should relieve our stress by keeping the vacation and that it might be years before we could do this again, my father and stepmother stretched their means to provide the remaining money so we could go. We commemorated their benevolence with the second ornament.
The appreciative memories rolled in. The older kids had received scholarships to attend church youth retreats and mission trips. A Sunday School family gave our daughter beautiful hand-me-down clothes; they were delighted whenever she wore them to church. Former colleagues helped me network for employment. Providers offered financial relief with medical bills and remedial tutoring. Friends and family supported us with cards, books, rides, outings, and prayers.
One woman called Sara and offered to take her grocery shopping. When Sara protested that she couldn’t pay this friend back, the woman said, “Our family went jobless for a time. I was thinking about you and remembering what I would have wanted, which was for someone to buy my groceries. So that’s what I’ll do for you.”
Our grateful ideas expanded to include our health and the health of all grandparents as well as the friendships we experienced in our church, the church choir, and the youth group.
That year, we celebrated around a shiny silver and gold gratitude tree, reminding us of our blessings in this time of despair.
Those ornaments became a holiday tradition. Each year, we pull out those ornaments and place them on our green Christmas tree as a reminder of when we were helped and how we should help others. In the fifteen years since the layoff, a couple of ornaments have been broken, but the rest remain. They are hung around the center of the tree, their bright silver and gold finishes reflecting the lights on the tree, making the whole tree glow, and making our hearts glow as well. Just as those ornaments are at the core of our decoration, so we’re reminded each year that gratitude should be at the core of our Christmas celebration.
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