Today, Christmas day, I am delighted to be sitting on my couch reading articles and getting ideas on baking and decorating for next Christmas from Victoria Magazine.  (Yes, I am a planner.) It is a peaceful morning with houseguests and husband snug in their beds.  This year the weather is not cooperating with my romantic ideal of at least two inches of snow.  However, the morning sun radiating through the window behind me is welcome.

As a Christian, I celebrate Christmas from both a religious and secular perspective.  The house is filled with greenery, two trees, candles and many Santa Clauses.  On the hearth, an elf doll peddles a metal tricycle. On the piano is a white china nativity with each figure edged in gold.  The living room table holds a statue of Mary and Joseph kneeling, he with his arm around her and both holding the baby Jesus.  Unlike the gold-trimmed china nativity, this simple, brown statue expresses the humanity of Jesus and his ordinary life with his parents.

One way I celebrate Jesus’ birth is by giving presents to my family and baked goods to friends and neighbors.  This is all well and good, but this year I felt a need to give a gift to Jesus. After all, it’s his birthday—not ours. Whether in a religious context or not, Christmas celebrates the birth of a carpenter who walked this earth for 33 years, cared deeply for the poor and disenfranchised, lived a life of sacrifice for others, and changed the world.  This is Jesus birthday party. What gift would be appropriate for his birthday?  Family and friends suggested a few organizations that help those in need.

But I give to charities throughout the year.  I want to give something different—and special. Then, a few days ago, with thoughts of giving occupying my mind, it occurred to me that Jesus is the gift.  I need only to be a good receiver with a grateful heart–that is my gift to Him.  This thought put a different perspective on Christmas this year. It reminded me that giving to each other is not just an exercise in commerce-driven spending, but a passing on of the generosity that resonates with the original gift of Christmas.