When my boys were little, I asked them for one gift - a Christmas song.
Not just any old, raggedy holiday song, but a real Christmas carol - a hymn.
No shopping or cash required; no wrapping paper, scissors, or tape to worry about.
Perfect!
My request generated hushed practices behind closed bedroom doors, and stray
sheets of music threatened to ruin the surprise. Occasionally a musical instrument
made it into the mix, and my favorite song ever, "We Three Kings", included props.
I love that they were committing sacred, and sometimes ancient, phrases to memory:
"Come, desire of nations, come; Fix in us thy humble home."
"... to save us all from satan's power when we have gone astray ..."
"Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;'"
Many years later, I'm still asking for my Christmas hymn.
Every year, it's the last gift given, sometimes almost forgotten in all the December 25th excitement.
My men and almost-men line up amid discarded paper wrapping and empty boxes to sing.
It's my favorite gift, by far the best three minutes of Christmas Day.
And just imagine how this might work out in the years to come. Lord willing,
daughters-in-law will join in giving me this cheap and easy-to-wrap gift, and maybe ...
even the grandkids will sing along someday.
What a gift that would be!
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