The holidays are a time to give thanks and to spread kindness toward fellow man. At least that's what our parents and all those holiday songs have told us over the years.
"Be good for goodness sake."
"Let your heart be light."
"Say ‘Hello' to friends you know and everyone you meet."
And when I sometimes lose sight of that during the holiday season, I have gentle reminders around my house to help me stay on track. Like my letter stocking holders, which spell out the word PEACE. My kids sure have had fun with those. ("OK, who's the wise guy who spelled PEE on the mantle? Very funny.") And my JOY candlesticks that lighten my heart. As added reminders, I have angels, gifts, and bells. Even my puppy jingles when he walks by.
For the most part, I have heeded my parents' advice about kindness during this holiday season. I've purchased gifts for others, made donations to charities, spent time with family members and of course, spread "cheer" wherever I could. "OK, who wants to join me for a glass of wine?"
I would, however, be lying if I said I behaved perfectly this holiday season. I've been known to have a few behaviors that I'm not proud of, such as buying gifts for myself. I have a little guilt about that.
"Gina, what do you want for Christmas?" my husband asked me one day.
"You know, Mike, I have you and the kids; that's all I need," I answered, hoping that he didn't notice my new boots, leather gloves, iPod, neck massager, Snuggie, ski jacket, electronic coin counter, etc.
This Chrismas, I've also continued my long-standing tradition of "bribery," though it's losing some of its effect. "Listen kids, if you don't clean your rooms, Santa will skip your house."
"But Mom, I don't believe in Santa. I'm 16."
Of course, I'm not the only one who behaves badly during the holidays. When you think of it, this whole Christmas thing has gotten a little out of hand. Speaker and funny lady Loretta LaRoche reminded me of this a few years ago when I heard her speak and she asked, "How did we go from a baby born in a manger to ‘Shop till we Drop?"
The truth is, all this shopping has a way of bringing out the worst in people. I remember a holiday shopping experience several years ago, when my sister and I and our children ventured out to a shopping mall. It was a few days before Christmas and the parking was nearly impossible.
As we approached the mall, we noticed a mother and father and their two kids heading out to the parking lot.
"Follow them!" I ordered my sister, the "Shirley Partridge" or driver of our car.
"Sa-weet!" said Patty, creeping behind the family in her Astro van.
"Mom, I think you're scaring them!" said Patty's oldest child.
When the family reached their car, Patty put on her left hand signal to "mark our spot," which was very close to the mall.
Just as the family pulled out, a woman in a shiny new BMW swooped in from the other side and took the spot we had "stalked out." Just like that.
We were, of course, stunned.
"I can't believe she just did that?" I said.
"Boo!" the kids yelled.
As the lady got out, Patty rolled down her window and shouted, "Hey lady, you just took our spot!"
"Yeah, you loser!" I screamed from my window. "What a nice lesson to teach your daughter, you...you...Parking Scrooge," I shouted, ignoring my daughters sitting behind me.
The "parking pilferer" then grabbed her daughter and skipped toward the mall.
"We can't let her get away with this!" I shouted.
"Oh we're not!" said my sister with a fiery look in her eye that I hadn't seen since I drew a mustache and eyeglasses on her David Cassidy poster when we were kids.
"What are we going to do?" I asked, scared, but intrigued.
"You're going to write her a note, and we're going to leave it on her car," said Patty exercising her "big sister" authority.
"What am I going to write?" I asked.
"Hello? You're the writer," she said, handing me a pad of paper and pen.
My sister was right; we couldn't let this slide. I grabbed the piece of paper and expressed my deep feelings of anger, hurt, and resentment.
I then got out of the car, affixed my gloves, and firmly placed the note on the windshield of her squeaky clean car.
When I got back into my sister's van, my younger daughter said, "Mommy, I'm scared, what did you write?"
"Kids," I said, seeing an opportunity for a teaching moment. "Sometimes you just have to stand up for what's right and suffer the consequences."
"Mommy, I don't want you making threats and going to jail," my youngest cried.
"Honey, don't you worry," I said feeling a little relieved that I had worn my black leather gloves (thereby eliminating DNA evidence).
A half hour later, after we finally found a parking space, my sister pulled me aside and asked, "Hey Gene, I was kinda thinking. It is Christmas...you know...good will toward fellow man. I hope you didn't scare that lady too much. She did have a kid with her.
"Pat, I'm not going to tell you. I don't want to implicate you," I answered, secretly recounting the powerful words I had written.
Hey Lady,
Best wishes for a rotten holiday season.
Joy and Peace! Jingle, Jingle
