kentkingery.com

Although this could easily turn into another screed about the commercialization of Christmas, I’m restraining myself.  Instead, I want to share with you the best gift I got for Christmas this past year.

It doesn’t look like much.  An old Christmas card cut up and folded into a crude box.  Ragged at the edges where young hands weren’t able to quite make the corners work.  Just like hundreds of other small handmade items from my kids over the years.

But this one came at a time when I needed it most.  At the end of a particularly long week of working 18-hour days.  On an evening when I was having a lot of self-doubt about my abilities and the meaning of my work.  When I was ready to throw my laptop across the room in fury at myself, my company, and the world in general.

“Daddy…” came the quiet voice, usually loud and raucous, hopped up on sugar or television or some other external stimulant.  The voice that usually was whining about one thing or another or crying because of some perceived hurt or ill.  The voice that often brought woe or worry or other tidings of less than great joy.

“Daddy…” she said.  “I made this for you.”

I took the box and gave it a shake, expecting to hear the sound of some pennies or rocks or other customary offerings.  My heart began to break as I realized how I had denied my child her deepest desire, time with her Daddy, over the last few weeks.  The box suddenly looked like something out of the fanciest catalog, the most lavish of stores, the best that money could buy.

“What’s inside?” I asked, wondering what it could be that didn’t make any noise but could be worth the obvious effort she had put into the box.

“I blew a kiss inside of it, just for you” she said.

And I wept. Tears of joy for the heart that beat inside my daughter’s chest.  Tears of shame for the way I had behaved as a father over the last few nights.  Tears of gratitude for the real gift God had given me in the form of this child.

Thank you, my darling, for the best gift I could have received from anyone this year…