It’s been just over a year since our last blog post. Whoops. We don’t post here often, but when we do, it’s for a big deal. And I think this counts.
Our daughter, Taylor, is 9. All on her own, she decided this year that in lieu of presents, she wanted to adopt an Angel Tree child and give a great Christmas to a little boy who otherwise might not have one. Yes, she wanted to adopt a boy. We suspect this is compensation for not having a little brother to buy for — a little brother I know would be horribly spoiled by her big sister at this point.
Elizabeth and I were skeptical when she first announced her wishes a few months ago. But she stuck with it, and was very emphatic about her desire to give this gift. We ran with it, and through November, she and Elizabeth went shopping for this unknown child.
Family members have been so impressed, they donated more money for the cause, enough so that we were able to adopt a second child off the Angel Tree, much to Taylor’s delight.
Sunday afternoon, we watched Taylor sit and wrap all those presents herself, and she did a pretty darn good job at it. (Much better than I do at wrapping.) The excitement in her voice, and sheer joy on her face, reminded me once again what this season is all about.
This time of year, I’m often guilty falling into the trap of commercialism and skepticism, frustrated with the whole annual routine. Taylor, through her sacrifice and her empathy, has shaken my inner Grinch loose and restored my joy this season. Despite her parents’ mistakes — and there have been plenty — Taylor continues to show a true servant’s heart. No parent could ask for more of their child.
Pride may be one of the seven deadly sins, but if pride in your child is included, well, I need to go to confession. And I’m not even Catholic.
(Don’t tell Taylor, but she’s still getting a couple presents from us. We couldn’t resist.)