Bah! Humbug!
I'm really not a Scrooge when it comes to Christmas. I absolutely love Christmas. It's more than the lights and pretty decorations. It's the feeling you get when you've found the perfect gift for someone, the anticipation of seeing the look on someone's face when it gets unwrapped, the satisfaction of knowing you've spread some cheer. And, for the second year, anyway, I'll have the joy of knowing that everything I've bought has been paid for outright, and not on credit. Which only means that January's credit card bill will be a happy one, indeed. (Well, not exactly happy. Happy would be a non-existent balance. But it will be happier.)
So why do I feel like such a Scrooge right now?
I submit the list of one of the needy families my workplace adopted this year:
Kid #1 (20 yrs old):
Best Buy gift card
Bible - travel size approx 5 x 8 - The Message
Sports Authority gift card
American Eagle gift card
Kid #2 (17 yrs old):
i Tunes gift card
Boss DD3 Digital Delay Guitar Effects pedal
Boss RC-2 Loop Station Guitar Effects pedal
3 packs of Elixir Polyweb Electric Guitar strings .10 gauge
Fallout 3- Video game for X Box 360
Season 1 of -Chuck- TV series
Season 1 or 2 of -Psych- TV series
Season 4 of - The Office- TV series
Monty Python Flying Circus TV series on DVD
Best Buy Gift Card
Kid #3 (14 yrs old):
One year of X-Box live for X-Box 360
The Dark Knight DVD special edition
Hancock DVD special edition
Mercenaries 2 video game for X Box 360
007 Quantum of Solace video game for X Box 360
Planet Hulk - Marvel Graphic Novel
24 - Season 2 TV series
Best Buy gift card
Gamestop gift card
Mom:
Blender
Gift Card for clothes - Kohl's - Coldwater Creek - Sears - Walmart
Perfume - Sensational, Green Tea Lotus, or Red Door
Black or brown leather pocketbook
Dad:
Christmas tree
Cordless electric drill (Ryobi, Makita, Hitachi, etc)
25 ft pro measuring tape
After shave - Brut
I have serious misgivings about giving anything to this family. I asked about them and got a bit of backstory, namely that the parents used to own and operate a once lucrative CD store, which they recently had to close because it was losing money. The father could only find a job in maintenance (despite the myriad retail management jobs I see posted each week in the employment section) and recently became ill; the mother (who used to help run the business) doesn't work. They've since foreclosed on their house and are living in an apartment, and the parents are getting ready to file for bankruptcy.
So, yeah, things suck right now for them. But it still doesn't make me want to run out and buy something off their list. I'm not spending $50 on kids I know this Christmas, let alone kids I don't know. (Full disclosure: I've spent $44 on The Boy's Christmas presents. That includes his gift from Santa, too.)
The other family's list is very basic: winter clothes for the 3 kids (ages 6 months to 4 years), diapers & formula for the baby, puzzles, board games, basic toys, books, clothes for the mom. It's the kind of list you expect to receive from a family in need. It's not a list that you look at and think, "How is this a family in need?" Half of my coworkers have remarked they don't even have an XBox, let alone need games for it.
I know families who are far needier, families with medical bills that are only manageable because they're fortunate enough to have insurance. I have friends raising kids on single incomes, friends who have foreclosed on their homes and filed for bankruptcy, friends who have to decide which bills to pay and which to let slide, friends who are struggling each month to keep roofs over their heads and food in their bellies. And I have Vox neighbors who are barely making ends meet, neighbors whose words make me want to cry as I look at the wealth surrounding me and offer up prayers of thanks for all that I do have.
These are the people I want to help, people who don't own much but still feel so blessed for what they have, people who aren't wrapped up in the materialism of the season but recognize the gifts they've already been given. But the amazing thing is that the people I want to help are the ones who are too humble to ask for anything - because they, too, know of people far needier than they.
So, I'm not getting anything for the above family this Christmas (I've already purchased Chutes and Ladders for the other family). I will leave their wish list to more sympathetic people in the building and focus my efforts, instead, on surprising the people I know with unexpected niceties. And if that makes me a Scrooge, so be it.
Bah! Humbug!
Comments
I truly agree! Last year for Christmas when I worked at the hospital, we adopted a local family for Christmas. Their wish lists? Jeans for dad. Socks for baby. A new shirt for son. A bra for mom. Food or a gift certificate to Food Maxx. No tree, no gadgets, no jolly. My heart went out to them. I bought the dad two pairs of jeans because they were on sale, and pitched in ten bucks to get them Christmas dinner, and someone donated a [used] analog television because they'd never had one. They lived in a shack on the edge of a vineyard that had electricity but no heat or water.
These are the people who I joyfully and humbly want to help. When I see gift cards to Best Buy and video games on this list, I feel outraged, too! I feel devastated for the family who has to foreclose and drastically change their lifestyle because of these horrible times, but take a look around this nation! I know people who have been left homeless just before the holidays, who have sold every last item to buy dinner, who aren't having a hint of Christmas because gifts are a waste of precious dollars and cents! If you "need" DVD's and leather pocketbooks, you aren't in my needy chategory quite yet!
If Tiny Tim could be joyful for Christmas, this family shouldn't even blink. They should have respectfully decilned the offer to be supported this holiday season.
A list like that would make me cry. I would go out and buy a dozen pairs of socks for the baby, a few shirts for the son (in varying sizes, so he could grow into them), and basic toys the kids didn't ask for but would no doubt enjoy. Hell - if the kids were anywhere near my son's age, I'd raid his present stash and give his toys to them! (Lord knows The Boy has more toys than he needs, but he enjoys playing with all of them.)
My sister's comment when I sent her the list was that she especially liked the request for a Christmas tree. It's not enough that we're providing presents - now they want us to give them the tree to put them under! (And really, how practical is a Christmas tree?)
Nothing on this list (except maybe the aftershave) is cheap. A cordless Makita drill will set you back more than a couple of clams - more than I'm spending on most of my friends.
You're right: they should have respectfully declined the offer. And that, boys and girls, is precisely why I'm boycotting this family.
Geeze.
I'm with you Eileen--go for the 2nd family and help them out. We adopted a kid, right at our son's age, to buy toys and clothes for this holiday. The card simply listed clothing size, shoe size, and it noted a few things the kiddo enjoys (Superman and Wonderpets). Although I had to search pretty hard for something Wonderpets, at least the list was simple and not really demanding very specific, expensive gifts.
I cried the other day when I got off the phone with my sister. A bit of backstory, first. My sister's husband works incredibly hard in a lucrative industry and, luckily, loves what he does. As such, she and my nieces are very well provided for, and they have enough to share with others. My husband and I aren't destitute by any means (we, too, are able to share with others), but, like most people, we have to watch our pennies and carefully manage our budgets.
We're going to visit my sister this winter, the expenses for which my sister unexpectedly offered to reimburse me. That was enough to reduce me to tears. Then, as our Christmas presents, she's arranged for my husband and me to enjoy a night together in the city sans The Boy (whom she will happily keep), something we've so wanted to do but haven't been able to arrange ourselves.
So, the other night, she asked me what I wanted for my birthday. Given all that she's done for me, I told her that I didn't need anything, that she certainly didn't need to get me anything because she's already given me so much. And then she said that she read my Piggy Bank QOTD post and noted that I was waiting to buy myself some new shoes. (I didn't even remember writing it, but I made an off-hand remark that seemed to resonate.) "Will you please let me buy you some shoes? I read your post and felt so bad because my baby sister is waiting to buy herself shoes, and I buy three or four pairs every few months!"
Naturally, I accepted the offer (I really could use new shoes, after all), but after I got off the phone, the depths of my sister's generosity made me cry.
My family is not needy. We have a roof over our heads, a fully stocked pantry, a full refrigerator, enough clothes to last a week without doing laundry (except diapers, but trust me when I say you don't want diapers sitting out for a week, anyway), two cars in the garage (a luxury, to be sure), and enough toys to keep a dozen kids (both toddler- and adult-sized) occupied for several days. Do I need new shoes? No. I have perfecty functional shoes that meet my needs. But would I like new shoes? You betcha!
And I guess that's what really irked me about this family's wish list. This is the list of a family who has everything they need but would like to have more. So the parents want their kids to have a good Christmas despite the economic climate. You know what? As a kid of the '80s who remembers when prime rates were in the double digits and quarters for arcade games were not meant to be squandered lightly, this is as good a time as any to start teaching your kids the value of a dollar. Give that to them for Christmas. It would be a far more valuable gift than a video game they'll beat within a few months, anyway.