One of the reasons I love Thanksgiving, a reason I suspect others share, is that it is more about the people I share it with than anything else. Christmas has taken on an urgency that is hard to live up to-thebest presents, the perfect decorations, managing an insane celebration and work schedule. Out of curiosity, I googled "perfect holiday table." Notice what is missing from this typical image?
Yesterday while strolling through the facebook neighborhood, one of my firends pointed toward a pre-Thanksgiving sharing by the editor of textweek.com. Textweek.com is a feast in itself, putting on the table resources for understanding bible passages: visual, musical, cinematic, popular and scholarly. Here's some bits from Janee's story. While many of us are dreaming of Christmas traditions, anticipating the creation of joyful memories, Janee's family, with an autistic son, walked the holiday as though it were a minefield. She writes:
Our family learned to slow down at Christmas a number of years ago when he was unable to tolerate *any* of the celebration. He could not handle the changing scenarios - the twinkling lights, the changes in grocery store displays, the changes in the sanctuary at church, presents appearing under the tree, the tree ITSELF, and the moved furniture. He would fall on the floor and scream, unable to move, afraid to open his eyes, almost constantly from Thanksgiving until well after Christmas when it was all over. We carried him through that time his head covered with his coat so we could get through the grocery store, or sat with him huddled in his room, carefully ordered EXACTLY the same since summer, with no Christmas trappings.
Even gifts appearing under the tree, and even worse, being unwrapped, changing, moving, was a traumatic process for Phil
... We'd try to find him a present he'd enjoy, but he'd merely scream and cry in panic at the intrusion on his carefully ordered world, and the gifts would sit ignored until he outgrew them and we gave them to some little boy who could appreciate them.
He wanted nothing.
[Then one year] right around Thanksgiving, we once more asked the kids what they wanted for Christmas. ... And our 10-year old son, for the first time in his life, answered the question. "PlayStation 2," he said. "I want PlayStation 2 Christmas." We just about fell over. His sister gave him a piece of paper. She wrote "Phil's Christmas List" at the top. He wrote, "PLAYSTATION TOW" under her heading. "At Sam's," he said. "Go to car."
So, we drove to Sam's. He has never looked at anything there, never seemed to notice that Sam's has anything he might want. But he led us right to the PlayStation 2 sets, picked out the bundle he wanted and put it in the cart. "Open at Christmas," he said. He watched gleefully as we wrapped the package, and then he solemnly placed it under the tree. So, a PlayStation 2 game set sits there, wrapped, with his name on it, and he waits to open it. "December 25," he says. "Open PlayStation 2 December 25."
[A few days later, returning from] yet another Christmas rehearsal with our daughter, Phil found a Best Buy ad in the paper and turned immediately to the PlayStation games. He circled "Harry Potter" and "John Madden Football", handed the ad to Bob, and said, "I want Christmas." There were tears in my eyes. It's such a small thing, but such a truly amazing thing. It's one more bit of hope that he will be able to function in some semblance of society as an adult one day - that he might be able to live just a BIT more independently, and one day want the things he needs to survive enough to work for them.....
This Advent season I am grateful for being able to appreciate what complexity and miracle is involved in such small "selfish" acts as wanting something for Christmas and expressing those wants to another person. I'm grateful that my son is able to enjoy some of the commercial cultural trappings of the holiday this year instead of running from them screaming. I'm grateful for the many ways Phil helps me stop and look again, even at my most "Christian" conclusions. And I'm especially grateful that my son helps me see Christ's humble birth, over and over again, even in the midst of nightmares and worries I could not have imagined 10 years ago, even in the midst of Advent. -Jenee Woodard
Signs of hope come in such odd packages, don't they? As our Thanksgiving turns toward the celebration of new birth, may we become more aware of the everyday pleasures we take for granted, as well as how overwhelming the holiday season can be. What miracle will you witness that points toward the "reason for the season?" How might it change your life, for a day or forever? And how will you share that good news?
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