Tangible Acts of Love
A few days before Christmas, my phone buzzed with a text message. “Ho, ho, ho,” it read. “Santa made a special delivery. Check your front porch. Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas!”
I opened the front door and looked down at a sizable red-and-white gift bag with tissue paper billowing from its top. It contained a plethora of festive items: Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes, a holiday tea sampler set, some fun measuring spoons, a Bible verses coloring book and a box of new colored pencils, a reading journal, a loaf of homemade cranberry nut bread. As I pulled out each item, it was as good as a comforting hug. It was the best thing that had happened that week, because it was a tangible act of love.
You see, my husband had left a few days before on a TDY (Temporary Duty Assignment). He’s spending the next four months working abroad, and while this isn’t my first deployment rodeo, it’s not easy facing one during Christmastime. The empty chair at our table, the extra household chores, the lack of parenting back-up all seem more poignant during the holiday season.
We live in an incredibly busy culture, and the all-hands-on-deck approach of previous generations seems to have largely disappeared. A friend of mine who survived cancer a decade or so ago remembers with great fondness and appreciation the crew of church ladies who took turns bringing meals, showing up to watch her kids so she could rest, and running errands for her during the time she was undergoing treatment. They were all her mother’s age or older, and many of them are now deceased. Their legacy seems to have died right along with them, she says.
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