Shoeboxes
It is November, which means the Thanksgiving-slash-Christmas combo of holiday merriment has descended upon us. On the morning of the first, Aden hopped wide-eyed out of bed (never happens, y'all) and told Alexa to start the Christmas music. Trey heard, and wandered into the kitchen smiling. Brandon heard, rushed Aden with a hug-tackle saying, "That's my boy!"
Let me just tell you something about Christmas music.
It is magical.
No one got on a screen that morning. One evening, the music was playing, and both boys sat in the living room with me and created Lego things. We talk, we sing, we dance, we smile. When it's on, video games don't mean nearly as much. That nostalgic delight just makes us want to be together. It's awesome.
Well, Operation Christmas Child time has come. Every year, even since the boys were very small, I have gone into the whole shoebox scenario with high, high hopes. My children will finally realize how blessed they are! They will be so excited to share goodness with kids who have so little! They will quit complaining altogether and realize how much they love us and each other!
Yep.
And when my pre-shopping pep talks led to Trey deciding he just didn't care and Aden throwing a massive fit because he wanted all the things, every stinkin year, and when I got so frustrated I just did all the packing myself, every stinkin year, even still this hope never died.
I'm so glad it didn't. We had the best time, y'all.
We shopped on Friday, as our last adventure of high school football season. Did the car pep talk, and emphasized that these kids didn't even know what video games are, and they wouldn't get bored. So please pick out things you'd like to have if all your screens disappeared.
They did! It was amazing. Sweet Trey was like a human vacuum, "he'd like this and he'd like this and he'd like this", grabbing things from practically every aisle. And precious Aden, with the same enthusiasm but with some choices far too large for the shoebox. Thought the boy was going to clean the store out of those small bags of Legos. Hard to tell what kids are thinking, but I truly believe they were either putting themselves in the place of those less fortunate or happy for the opportunity to make a difference in the life of someone their own age.
We went home and, of all things, watched a movie together. Their suggestion. I know!
After the ball hand pumps arrived from Amazon, we fired up the Christmas music and the boys packed the boxes, complete with little notes to let the recipient know that God loves them. On the same day the Lord chose to bless us with some snow showers, just bubbling warmth and joy inside.
Oh Christmas spirit. There's nothing like it.
Let me just tell you something about Christmas music.
It is magical.
No one got on a screen that morning. One evening, the music was playing, and both boys sat in the living room with me and created Lego things. We talk, we sing, we dance, we smile. When it's on, video games don't mean nearly as much. That nostalgic delight just makes us want to be together. It's awesome.
Well, Operation Christmas Child time has come. Every year, even since the boys were very small, I have gone into the whole shoebox scenario with high, high hopes. My children will finally realize how blessed they are! They will be so excited to share goodness with kids who have so little! They will quit complaining altogether and realize how much they love us and each other!
Yep.
And when my pre-shopping pep talks led to Trey deciding he just didn't care and Aden throwing a massive fit because he wanted all the things, every stinkin year, and when I got so frustrated I just did all the packing myself, every stinkin year, even still this hope never died.
I'm so glad it didn't. We had the best time, y'all.
We shopped on Friday, as our last adventure of high school football season. Did the car pep talk, and emphasized that these kids didn't even know what video games are, and they wouldn't get bored. So please pick out things you'd like to have if all your screens disappeared.
They did! It was amazing. Sweet Trey was like a human vacuum, "he'd like this and he'd like this and he'd like this", grabbing things from practically every aisle. And precious Aden, with the same enthusiasm but with some choices far too large for the shoebox. Thought the boy was going to clean the store out of those small bags of Legos. Hard to tell what kids are thinking, but I truly believe they were either putting themselves in the place of those less fortunate or happy for the opportunity to make a difference in the life of someone their own age.
We went home and, of all things, watched a movie together. Their suggestion. I know!
After the ball hand pumps arrived from Amazon, we fired up the Christmas music and the boys packed the boxes, complete with little notes to let the recipient know that God loves them. On the same day the Lord chose to bless us with some snow showers, just bubbling warmth and joy inside.
Oh Christmas spirit. There's nothing like it.
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