It was bound to happen sooner or later.
Years of toiling away in the retail world left me jaded, angry and annoyed at what ‘should’ be the “most wonderful time of the year.”
Ah yes, Christmas – a time when, (if the songs and stories are to be believed) we embrace our fellow man, cherish family, and wish peace and goodwill to everyone we meet.
But as year upon year passed, I began to notice that this was not the case, and my heart began to harden. If anything, you could almost compare me to the mythical Grinch whose heart was two sizes too small. Christmas became just 24 hours when I rushed around visiting family, friends ... trying to ram all the little things that most people do in a few weeks– into a few hours.
But just when I had given up on the whole notion of ‘Christmas’ and the true meaning of the holiday, the most extraordinary event happened.
It was just another typical day at my workplace during the holidays (I managed a Disney Store). Crazy line ups at the cash register, cranky adults, crying children, and brittle staff members. All these factors do not add up to Christmas cheer, I can assure you. I had been at the cash register for two hours straight and the line-up never seemed to end. I became an automaton…. scan, swipe, pass the receipt and force a smile, when all of a sudden a little girl of about five years of age appeared next to me behind the cash desk. With a small smile, she put out her hand and passed me…. a hot chocolate.
In shock, I looked up from the little angel’s face to peer quizzically at her mother who stood to the side beaming.
“Why?” I softly asked. The mother explained that her little girls saved their allowance to be able to buy hot chocolates for random strangers who look as if they needed some kindness.
My whole world …… stopped.
Christmas was not about presents, or packages, or cash registers, or sales, and in that one small act of kindness, Christmas came back to me… And my heart remembered.
I kept my composure for the rest of the day, but when I was finally in my car driving home, tears rolled down my face as I thought about the lesson that this mom was teaching her children about the ‘true’ meaning of Christmas. Little did she know, she taught me a lesson too.
I never got the names of the little girls or their mom– but tonight, as I sit back and enjoy the holiday with my family, I silently thank them.
Sometimes, Christmas does not show up in a brightly coloured package adorned with fancy bows and ribbons.
Sometimes it shows up in a paper cup.
Merry Christmas everyone.
