When I was a teenager, our whole mutual group provided a special and unexpected Christmas for a struggling family in our ward. The girls and the leaders prepared for this project for several weeks. The young women were given clothes sizes and a wish list for the four or five young children, and each youth was assigned to buy a specific gift for one of the family members.
Then, just before Christmas we all gathered at a leader’s home. We spent the evening wrapping coloring books, crayons, toys, clothes, and various other Christmas treasures. A sense of Christmas anticipation filled the air along with the scents of apple cider and pine trees. The crinkle of wrapping paper added to the excitement. Everyone’s hands were busy wrapping gifts or filling boxes with presents and food.
Once preparations were finished and all necessary items were packed safely in numerous vehicles, we made our way to the family’s home. The children had been sent to spend the night at a babysitter’s home in the ward. This left the house empty for us to complete our magic.
As we drove down the country roads, lit on either side by sparkly Christmas lights, I looked forward to playing Santa. I little realized, as a seventeen-year-old, all that actually lay in store that night. I thought we were just dropping off the goods. This, by itself, would have been a fun adventure. But there was more.
Once in the house a flurry of activity ensued, directed by our leaders. It was a small, humble home. People got to work cleaning cupboards in the kitchen, then packed those cupboards with all sorts of food, including Christmas dinner trimmings. The men hauled in a new refrigerator, which was then filled with food, including a large turkey.
Floors were swept and mopped; the bathroom was cleaned; clean sheets were placed on the beds and the beds were made. Clothes were gathered for washing, and clean clothes were folded and put away. A pine tree was brought in and decorated. Then our gifts were strewn beneath the brightly lit boughs, and a box of oranges was placed beside the tree.
Once the house was cleaned and filled with Christmas Spirit, we all hurried into the night and up the long, dark driveway carrying with us the inexplicable joy of true service.
This family was not alone in receiving a gift that evening. I received one of the greatest gifts, one which I still carry with me more than twenty years later. It is the love of service which was planted by my parents and nourished by activities like this one.
In service there are always two sides to every act: the giver and the receiver, both of whom can be beneficiaries of the same act. If one will truly give and the other will openly receive, both can be recipients of a marvelous gift.
I can only imagine how this family must have felt when they returned home in the early morning hours. For them, Christmas came a few days early. The children’s eyes must have sparkled at the sights before them. The parents, likely overcome with joy and relief, must have been grateful knowing that their family would have food to eat and gifts to enjoy. What a treat, also, for two weary parents to come home to a clean home and a well-stocked kitchen. They could, on that morning, simply embrace the magic of the moment.
I’m sure that family will always remember that special Christmas when “Santa” delivered gifts to their home and hope to their hearts. I know I will always treasure the memories of that night. It planted in me the true meaning of service.
Giving (i.e. service) does not always come wrapped easily in store-bought boxes. Real service is found in the sacrifice one makes in providing to others what is truly needed, whether it’s tangible objects or gifts of self, time or talents.
Service never leaves us empty-handed. It fills us by expanding our souls. It always leaves us wanting to serve more. It is in so giving – giving from one heart to another – that we find joy, the real Christmas Spirit.
Andrea Lauritzen is a member of the Monument Park 19th Singles Ward, Monument Park Stake, Salt Lake City, Utah.