Giving
I'm having my usual holiday kerfuffle, in which I get all tied up in my conflicting feelings and end up being paralyzed and not sending any cards or presents. Leaving aside my essential tendency toward inertia, my miserliness, and the totally-fried state of my mind, I think the problem is that I can't quite shake loose the notion that I should be truly generous every December in a way that I don't come close to reaching.
A couple of years ago I "adopted" a kid to whom to give gifts (through an organization supporting families in which grandparents are raising their grandchildren), at the prompting of a more generous friend, and that was both fun (I got to buy her NEW STUFF!!!) and totally depressing (the kids on the list asked for things like socks, sweatpants, rainboots...). This year I am pitching in in a VERY small way toward a group "adoption" of a family (through another organization), and it's also depressing. The single mother of three asked for pink towels, and a set of sheets for her bed, because she DOESN'T HAVE ANY SHEETS. And she asked for toys for the baby, because he DOESN'T HAVE ANY TOYS. This just kills me. I'm feeling all sorry for myself because I can't buy the expensive shoes I want, and I can't buy that fabulous German riding toy thingy for Dutch. Poor me. We're on a very tight budget... for excessively-educated-people-from-upper-middle-class-families. Because we are EEPFUMCF, we have sheets. Several sets, of the high-quality variety that will never ever ever wear out. Lots of towels (some monogrammed). No debt. A Christmas tree (sort of) already surrounded by lovely gifts from lovely friends and family. A child who will not have to suffer (too much) for our failure to make money. Nobody in our home is lacking for linens.
So... I'm:
-Buying some cranberry sauce and cereal for a family that has no sheets.
-Feeling fortunate to have that lovely pile of gifts.
-Wondering what I'm going to do about the fact that a family has no sheets, and why I let myself ignore things like that so much of the time.
-Speculating about how to joyfully celebrate the holiday season in a way that doesn't feel insanely consumer-y, selfish, or sanctimonious.
-Pondering the daunting task of writing holiday cards...
-Wishing we had our camera fixed so I could post some pictures of our fixer-upper gingerbread house - there's only so much navel-gazing I can do in one evening.
A couple of years ago I "adopted" a kid to whom to give gifts (through an organization supporting families in which grandparents are raising their grandchildren), at the prompting of a more generous friend, and that was both fun (I got to buy her NEW STUFF!!!) and totally depressing (the kids on the list asked for things like socks, sweatpants, rainboots...). This year I am pitching in in a VERY small way toward a group "adoption" of a family (through another organization), and it's also depressing. The single mother of three asked for pink towels, and a set of sheets for her bed, because she DOESN'T HAVE ANY SHEETS. And she asked for toys for the baby, because he DOESN'T HAVE ANY TOYS. This just kills me. I'm feeling all sorry for myself because I can't buy the expensive shoes I want, and I can't buy that fabulous German riding toy thingy for Dutch. Poor me. We're on a very tight budget... for excessively-educated-people-from-upper-middle-class-families. Because we are EEPFUMCF, we have sheets. Several sets, of the high-quality variety that will never ever ever wear out. Lots of towels (some monogrammed). No debt. A Christmas tree (sort of) already surrounded by lovely gifts from lovely friends and family. A child who will not have to suffer (too much) for our failure to make money. Nobody in our home is lacking for linens.
So... I'm:
-Buying some cranberry sauce and cereal for a family that has no sheets.
-Feeling fortunate to have that lovely pile of gifts.
-Wondering what I'm going to do about the fact that a family has no sheets, and why I let myself ignore things like that so much of the time.
-Speculating about how to joyfully celebrate the holiday season in a way that doesn't feel insanely consumer-y, selfish, or sanctimonious.
-Pondering the daunting task of writing holiday cards...
-Wishing we had our camera fixed so I could post some pictures of our fixer-upper gingerbread house - there's only so much navel-gazing I can do in one evening.
Comments
Horse-hair sweater for Sara.
WGW