A New Tradition
Can you imagine malls not crowded with Christmas shoppers, credit card charges eliminated and a stress free holiday season? My family has done just that. Our new tradition is not one that retailers will promote but we love it. Our holidays are now enriched beyond anything we could imagine. It is a gift I now offer to you.
Because everyone in our family had everything they needed, our Christmas gift giving had come down to everyone giving and getting the same gift. A gift card. There was no need to worry about space in your car for hauling your gifts home; they would fit in your wallet. I loved the Macys' card my son gave me; that would buy Glow by
J.LO, expensive perfume that I would never buy for myself. The children always got their toys and never complained.
It was always at Thanksgiving when we would draw one adult name as our gift recipient. One year, my daughter suggested we do something different. Instead of buying for one family member, we would buy a gift for each adult (there are seven of us) but the cost would not exceed $10 per gift. Huh? How could we get anyone anything for 10 bucks? The key was to look in thrift stores and go to garage sales. That was the new rule; your gift could not be new, it had to be used. By the expression on my son's face, I could see he was a little troubled. As one who only wears designer jeans and drives a current sports car, the idea of going to a garage sale or the Goodwill Store was really somewhat repugnant to him. He acquiesced and said he'd do the best he could. The rest of us looked at each other and thought it might be fun. It was and continues to be!
We had short notice that year, less than a month to begin our new tradition. We hit swap meets, garage sales and the Salvation Army stores. There were few rules. The gifts could be useful or not, pretty or not so, funny or practical. I thought I had really scored when I found a set of really, really ugly TV trays in the Goodwill Store. Mallard ducks in flight was the theme, the art, so to speak, on the trays. The metal legs were rusty but looked like they could clean up well. They did and that was the gift that year for my son with his designer taste. We laughed a lot and he did take them home but I am not sure they ever saw the light of his beautifully decorated home or whether he left them at the curb for the trash man. My son-in-law found himself enjoying this new idea, shopping in thrift shops instead of the mall. On a low shelf, he spotted an old shoeshine box. Ten bucks!
He put in new shoe polish, a new chamois cloth and wrote a poem to my son. Whatever DNA exists to make someone solely absorbed in making money, business schemes, etc. my son has it. As a young boy, he would spend his summer vacations at the local barbershop shining shoes. He didn't do too well because he had chosen a senior citizen's shop. Instead of shoes needing a shine, the patrons often wore tennis shoes or slippers. Undaunted, he went there every day. He often got a tip just because someone appreciated his tenacity. The poem enclosed in the shoe shine box was read aloud and brought tears to all of us. It spoke of the innocence of the young boy shining shoes who had grown to be a man of great character. You just can't find that kind of gift at the mall!
As far as my son and his shopping, he kind of bends the rules, but we understand. So what if he goes to an antique store instead of the Salvation Army? So what if he far exceeds the dollar limit, we understand. He is doing the best he can. I've gladly accepted the antique cameo pendant he gave me. He does shop with love. And he still gives me a Macys' gift card (moms can be allowed exceptions to the rule), so I can continue to indulge myself in expensive perfume.
A Miss Piggy piggybank called to me from the table at a garage sale, perfect but for which daughter? It was bought and stashed away at home. Months later in April, Christmas shopping again at a thrift store, there was a perfect match; another Miss Piggy piggybank. Now I had two! That Christmas, there they were for my daughters, matching gifts with a crisp five-dollar bill stuck in Miss Piggy's cleavage.
I've already gotten a head start on this year's shopping. Following the arrows on a cardboard sign pointing up the street, I stopped at a neighbor's garage sale. Among the treasures was one I found for my granddaughter at college. It is an alarm clock that will wake her up by screaming in Japanese. Perfect! I doubt her dorm mates will enjoy this gift as much as I did finding and giving it.
And there it is. Our new tradition, so successful, we would never consider doing it the old way. Accept my gift to you; come do it with us. See you at the Goodwill Store!