A Perfect Gift

As the holiday season swings into overdrive, many of us agonize
one more time over the perfect holiday gift for our loved ones.
No matter the budget, no matter the list, the agonizing is a
yearly ritual. One of my kids' early preschool teachers had the
best gift idea of all. She said no matter what else you give
them, be sure to give your kids some memories. When you get down
to it, memories are one of the very few things that you can count
on lasting.

I still think about that bit of advice as I reminisce about the
best Christmas ever when my own children were small. In the
classic family tradition, they were all snug in their beds. I had
just finished my holiday cleaning. Every decoration was perfect,
all the gifts were neatly wrapped and truth be known, Santa had
already stopped by.

Then, as fate would have it, the dog needed to go outside. I was
unaware it was even raining until he trotted back in through the
kitchen, leaving a tell-tale trail of muddy paw prints across my
fresh shinning floor. I stared in disbelief at the muddy paw
prints. They led right up to the table where Santa's treats
were still waiting. And then, in a flash, I grabbed a bowl,
trotted right out into the rain and scooped up my own batch of
newly-minted mud.

I pondered momentarily, wondering exactly what a reindeer's
footprints looked like. Then I realized that since no one in my
family had ever seen them either, the only thing that really
mattered was that they had to be different from those of the dog.
I started the tracks at the door, and planted muddy little
three-toed paw prints right beside the dog prints. I went all the
way up to the kitchen table, and then back to the door again.

Then I took out a piece of paper and wrote:

I am so sorry, but Rudolph saw the snacks on the table and he
came in behind me tracking mud all over the place. I am very
sorry for the mess.
Merry Christmas,
Love Santa
P.S. Thanks for the snacks.

Then I took a few really good bites out of some carrots and
placed the stems on the plate next to what now remained of
Santa's cookies.

Of course, the kids found the note and the muddy reindeer mess
before I got up. They rushed in to wake me up and tell me what
Rudolph had done and for me to please not be mad at him for
messing up my clean floor. Santa was really sorry. He even left a
note.

What were the gifts that Christmas? I no longer have a clue. But
ask the kids about the time Rudolph got loose in the house and
tracked mud all over the kitchen. They will tell you and I still
remember their faces and the excitement over the misadventures of
Santa's errant reindeer. They'll never forget and I won't
either.

Christmas was suddenly alive, it was real and the magic lived.
Years later they asked me about that event and how it came about.
A mom tracking mud over her own freshly-mopped floor never
occurred to them. And so they believed. If there had ever been a
shred of doubt in their minds, it vanished and Christmas was born
once again.

You can never know when your magic moment might come. Our best
ever was Rudolph's muddy mess. Everyone has a similar story,
and if they don't they most certainly should. My mom told me
that when she was a child all snug in her own bed, late one
Christmas Eve, she heard sleigh bells in the darkness outside her
window. She too believed. If you ask her about it today, she
will tell you about those bells of yesteryear as if it were only
last night.

This year, if you can, just for a moment, put the holiday frenzy
on the back burner where it belongs. It's Christmas. Give the
most enduring gift of all. Keep the magic alive. Give a memory.

Copyright 2005 Regina Pickett Garson

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