Christmas Love

I don't really know where to start.

Our family has been shown such incredible love over the past eight weeks.

I'm asked every week at church how the job hunt is coming.

I've had several people tell me they are fasting and praying for my family.

We've had anonymous gifts left on our doorstep and not-so-anonymous gifts handed to us.

I can hardly begin to process these humbling events.

Thursday evening, December 1, me and Ash and Alex were reading "The Grinch" while the rest of the family was in California, Nevada, or working. We had just arrived at the part where Mr. Grinch is hauling off with everyone's Christmas, when a knock sounded loudly at our front door.

Of course there was a mad dash to answer it, and all Ash could say was "Mom! You've gotta come here."

Christmas had arrived on our doorstep.

We hauled it in and stared in speechless, teary awe. There was a turkey and potatoes. There were presents that needed opening right then that included Cuties and ice cream and frozen corn. 


The rest of the box was a "12 Days of Christmas" with gifts to be opened every day.

Just as we figured out what to do with it all, another loud knock came. Round two.

The floodgate of tears really unleashed then. I have no words to describe the goodness of people. Yes, we will be unemployed at the end of the year. Are we starving . . . no. We feel so undeserving when there are many other families in far more destitute circumstances. But just the thought that others in my neighborhood and ward and community are thinking of us and love us has buoyed my spirits. I have always been on the other end of such gracious giving and am not used to all the love and charity that has been shown us in the past 8 weeks from multiple people. The Light of Christ has undoubtedly been shared with our family. These small acts of kindness will never be forgotten, EVER.

At first it seemed that the two deliveries were one and the same. It was just too coincidental that they happened on the same night at roughly the same time. But as we've thought about it, our conclusion is that it is two different benefactors who were separately giving of themselves.

There have been a million guesses as to who they could be, and it will be something that we most likely will go to our graves never knowing.

This Christmas has been more magical than most. Our circumstances have not forced us to be less charitable; in fact, it has had the opposite effect. We, as a family, decided to still carry on our traditions of giving. Our Christmas tree may be a little more bare, but our hearts are full of love, great love, for others.

As a child we were the recipients of such acts. One Christmas I remember a small Christmas tree with money attached to it left on our doorstep. Another such moment came shortly after my dad's mechanic shop blew up.

I was about 7 or 8 and remember the anonymous money that was donated to help get him back on his feet. I also remember the flowers that were sent from people in our community to my Grandpa Seamons's funeral in Logan, 4 hours from our small town. As a young child, these incidents had a great impact on me at the time.

Isn't that what Jesus Christ would want? A little less self; a little more others.

"Maybe Christmas," the Grinch thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas . . . perhaps . . . means a little bit more!"

These are the days of . . .
*reading and studying for my Praxis exam

*"God showed me that I have a tendency to give out of my abundance and then to expect to be blessed. I was reminded that he did not call believers to give so we could feel good about ourselves.  He called us to give because we are his children and that’s what his children do.

When I give to get something in return, whether monetary or emotional, I am stealing the glory from God and missing the point of the call. I do not want my actions to steal God’s glory." --Kim Harms, 500dresses.org