This past weekend was, perhaps obviously, very Christmas filled. Christmas Eve was spent baking desserts, listening to music, and finishing wrapping. Christmas Day was spent opening gifts, drinking coffee, and shredding the wrapping. And then dinner. It all goes by in a blur. And then it's over. That's December 25.
"God bless us, every one."
- Tiny Tim
"Who the hell names their son Tiny?"
- My Son
Growing up in Canada, with it's strong English history, I always knew December 26 to be Boxing Day. I never knew where the term ever came from nor, as a child, did I really care. What I knew to be true was that Boxing Day was an actual holiday and was much more Canadian than American, which was one of the few factors which distinguished us from our more southerly American neighbours and cousins. And, of course, I knew it for the widespread "Boxing Day Sales" that were advertised absolutely everywhere, as retailers all over excised their excess inventory.
Boxing Day is a day where those with Plenty "box up" those items they do not need, or "box up" small gifts and larger gifts for those who need. It is especially nice to do in the middle of winter.
Of course, as a child, Boxing Day was really just a day for me to play with the toys I received the day before. Books? No thanks. Clothes? Ew. Borrrrrring. Let's get the toys. And any chocolate I haven't eaten yet. My boys are similar, but much more mindful than I ever was. They appreciate the toys, but really appreciate being with each other. That makes my heart warm.
Today, for me, Boxing Day is a day to catch up on the sleep I did not get the prior two days and to reflect on the meaning of the prior two days. Christmas Day was good to me and mine; I received a new coffee grider/brewer all-in-one to replace my Keurig as well as a new Dollar Store special fire hydrant miniature for my desktop train set. A fire hydrant! My family knows me well.
More importantly, for me, I had a day with my boys not squabbling and, indeed, sharing some laughter. Everyone received musical instruments this year and, for a few brief moments, I had the utmost joy in listening to all of them wail on their new instruments simultaneously, creating a noise and ruckus that would make even the redeemed Grinch cringe. It was glorious. I loved it.
I'm lucky. I'm broke, but lucky, and small moments like this morning made me realise just how lucky. I had asked my youngest if he wanted to go out for breakfast (I was thinking of running over to Cracker Barrell as a treat). He declined, so off I went without him. Upon pulling into the parking lot - about 15 minutes away - I received a phone call from him (on his mobile) stating that he had changed his mind, had wanted to go with me, and was currently locked out of the house because he went looking for me.
It was -10C/14F outside. And my autistic 13 year old was locked outside.
Needless to say I spun right around to get home. I sped. I even ran a red light. Maybe two. Phone calls were made to both my older boys who I knew were sleeping soundly, and I would continue to call until either one of them woke or I made it home. Thankfully one of them finally answered and quickly went to let his brother inside (who, incidentally, still wanted to go for breakfast).
Immediately after ending the call with newly woken son I realised just how lucky I really am. I have a few extra dollars to spend on breakfast. I have a reliable means of communication with those who need me. I have a warm house. It's even dry. With food. And that even though my silly child had locked himself out, he was soon to walk inside and be alright. Warm. Dry. Hungry, but only because it's morning and he hasn't eaten yet.
There are a lot of people not as lucky as me. Probably more broke than me, too. But cold. So after cleaning up the mess from yesterday I'm collecting the winter coats we no longer use and taking them to a place they'll do more good than sitting idle in my house. Maybe it'll make someone else feel just as lucky to receive them as I feel for having a warm place to put my feet up.
(c) All images and photographs, unless otherwise specified, are created and owned by me.
(c) Victor Wiebe
About Me
Sometimes photographer. Wannabe author. Game designer. Nerd.
General all around problem-solver and creative type.
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