Gifts for the Savior

Dec 2009 Issue

by Annette Lyon
Oprah has an entire “Angel” Network she uses to benefit thousands of disadvantaged people around the world. Brad Pitt and his wife give more money toward charity than almost any other Hollywood stars. And Bono, arguably the coolest rocker alive, has done more for dying Africans than almost anyone.

Then there are the rest of us. We live in our houses, scraping butter on our kids’ toast for breakfast, packing school lunches, hoping we didn’t forget anyone’s homework, and goodness, kids, would you stop fighting? When the dust clears each school morning, we sit on the couch, our hair a mess, and watch news reports of the rich and famous making real differences in the world.

But really, what difference can we make? Most of us aren’t swimming in loaded bank accounts. We don’t own three homes, or have chauffeurs, or have a few million dollars to throw around to build an orphanage, a well for clean water, a new school for African children. What difference can our measly offering make?

As Christmas draws near, our hearts naturally turn to the Good Shepherd, to the One who gave us the Resurrection as the ultimate free gift, the One who gave us the opportunity to repent through the Atonement and thus gave us the possibility of returning to Him with the gift of Eternal Life. We celebrate those gifts as we celebrate His humble birth—often by giving gifts to one another.

Usually those gifts are of the worldly variety. They’re wrapped in shiny paper and topped with pretty bows, ready for the recipient to tear open and enjoy.

We all know that Christmas is more than that, and most of us strive to find a way to give in other ways. The problem is, we often give up, because we aren’t as rich as Brad Pitt or Oprah. And we certainly aren’t as cool as Bono.

But that’s not the real problem—it’s that we forget that Christ wasn’t rich or cool or famous, either.
He was a servant.

Christ spent time with small children. I can do that—I have small children of my own who yearn for any additional time Mom will give them, especially when I’m running around like a crazed chicken without a head each December. Maybe one of my gifts this year will be to slow down and spend time with them. To hold them. Read to them more. Talk with them more. Laugh with them.

Christ fed those who had no food. I have food storage in my basement. It’s not fancy, but we do have extra cans of tuna and soup and beans and I bought when they were on sale. We can spare some, especially for the less-fortunate during this tough economic climate. I can load up a box of food and take it to the food bank. Maybe even with my children.

For that matter, with what little money I do have, I can make a difference in places around the world by donating any amount, no matter how small, on my tithing slip to the Humanitarian Aid fund, the Perpetual Education Fund, or the Temple Patron Fund. Any money I donate will be used to benefit someone, somewhere, who needs it, in some small way.

Christ knew when it was time to stop worrying about housework, food and all the fancy fixings—all the party stuff we get caught up in during the holiday like Mary did when He visited her and her sister. This December, I’ll skip the vacuuming or sweeping, perhaps let the dishes lie in the sink a little longer, and sit down with my Book of Mormon for a few extra minutes. That will be a gift to myself—I’ll be partaking of “that good part,” as He said Martha had.

Christ knew that any time we serve another, it is the same as serving Him: “ye have done it unto me.”
So when I’m shopping and everyone around me is tense, a kind smile, a polite word, that diffuses tension, is a gift to my Savior. I can give genuine compliments to lift someone’s day. Instead of just thinking that my neighbor’s sweater is beautiful, I’ll say so to her. I can mail a card to a friend I’m thinking about, or drop off a treat to the bishop’s home in acknowledgment of all he does and the sacrifices his family makes for the benefit of the ward.

Even doing my visiting teaching—truly doing it by listening and being in tune with the Spirit to know if my sisters need something from me—will be a gift to my Savior.

None of these gifts are wrapped in shiny paper or have big, impressive bows. None cost gobs of money. All the same, they can impact lives. They can make a difference.

Somehow I think that iPods, DVDs, and fancy clothes aren’t the kinds of things our Savior would have in mind for the best way to celebrate his birth.

Simple gifts of service would be the right gift—anything that brings another person’s heart closer to
Him. The Savior once asked something: “Feed my sheep.”

That will be my gift.