Posted on December 2, 2024

By Keith Paxton

Once upon a time in a far away land, during one of the coldest winters then known, a family prepared to celebrate Christmas. In this family was a Mother, a Father, and three children. The Youngest was a girl, whose clear blue eyes and porcelain skin captivated the hearts of all who gazed upon her. The Middle Child was a rambunctious young chap who managed to get himself into a bit of mischief from time to time. The Eldest, well, he was the wisest of them all (at least in his opinion).

This modest family had few Christmas traditions, but one was perhaps the most anticipated: each Christmas Eve every child in that family could select one gift to unwrap. The days leading up to Christmas brought such excitement, such unbridled fervor. Each of the three siblings would gaze at the pile of brightly wrapped packages under the tree and think to themselves “which one shall I open?” Just as soon as a decision was made, another package was spotted with more shiny wrappings and bows, or perhaps a different shape. Oh, the indecision.

Finally, the time arrived on that cold, wintery Christmas Eve. The family gathered around the tree, adorned with tinsel and colored lights and decorated with homemade ornaments, baubles and trinkets from years and decades gone by. The tree itself released an everlasting and intoxicating aroma of evergreen – and to this day, when one detects that delicious fragrance, he or she instantly returns in their memory to those days of Yuletide simplicity.

One by one, each sibling – The Youngest, The Middle, and The Eldest – would carefully select one package. Each would study its size and shape, often picking it up and giving it a good shake – to perhaps reveal its contents. After each had made their selection, the moment all three had been waiting for had arrived. The Youngest opened hers first to squeals of great delight. Alas, the fog of the passage of time fails the memory as to what that gift was – and for that matter, the gift that The Middle Child selected. But The Eldest wasn’t concerned with his siblings’ Christmas bliss, his attention was focused on the biggest, most gloriously wrapped package under the tree.

As the rest of the family watched, he carefully pulled The Chosen Gift from behind the tree – “its size surely must equate to enormous bounty,” he thought. He held his breath, and with a dizzying display of ambidextrous skill, he shredded the colorful paper into a whirlwind of red and green confetti. In his mind, hosts of angels began to sing anthems of praise. As the last scrap of paper floated silently to the floor, The Eldest carefully slid his finger underneath the tape that sealed the box containing his treasure. His heart pounded in his chest with anticipation.

The lid popped open and with careful fingers he removed the layers of flimsy tissue paper from inside the box. What he beheld inside caused his countenance to freeze. Without saying a word he gently pulled the contents from its container – a gift he had anticipated for 365 days, mind you – and there, in front of him, was a brand … new … pillow.

Spontaneous laughter erupted from The Middle and The Youngest and perhaps a giggle from Mother and Father. The Eldest was dumbstruck. It was not a toy truck or the latest super-spy gadget, but a pillow.

Humiliated and disappointed, he watched as The Middle and The Youngest played with their doo-dads and what-nots while he cast a crestfallen glance at … The Pillow. The Mother and Father tried to soften the blow to The Eldest by explaining that some of the greatest gifts we receive are not in the biggest box or the most brightly wrapped packages, but they are simple – like a baby born in a barn in a food trough filled with hay, surrounded by farm animals. The Eldest knew the story of that first “Christmas” when Jesus was born in “The Little Town of Bethlehem” and had sung the carol that bears its name. “But why, a pillow?” he wondered.

Years later as The Eldest reflected on that Christmas Eve experience so very, long ago, he finally understood. He realized that the lowly pillow that he received – that “Christmas Pillow” – would serve him for many nights afterwards, comforting him as he slept – and it reminded him that it is much like God’s love which comforts us every day and every night.

It is, after all, God’s gift we that we celebrate.

So that is why, to this day, many years later, on Christmas Eve, The Eldest - now The Father - tells this story to his Eldest and to his Youngest – and now to his Grandson.

Merry Christmas to all.

*****

Keith Paxton

Emmy-Award Winning Executive Producer, Master Life Coach Training Institute