As told by Nancy W. Gavin.
It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas–oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it–overspending… the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma—the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.
As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.
Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.
Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.”
Mike loved kids – all kids – and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.
On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition–one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.
The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.
As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn’t end there.
You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.
Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down the envelope.
Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us.
***
This story was originally published in the December 14, 1982 issue of Woman’s Day magazine by Nancy W. Gavin. It was the first place winner out of thousands of entries in the magazine’s “My Most Moving Holiday Tradition” contest in which readers were asked to share their favorite holiday tradition and the story behind it.
The story inspired a family from Atlanta, Georgia to start The White Envelope Project and Giving101, a nonprofit organization dedicated to educating youth about the importance of giving.
Abbie says
Thank you for sharing this story again. I love it every time!
Christine says
Beautiful and inspiring. Thank you for sharing.
Rachel says
Just beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing and for bringing a wonderful Christmas idea to us all at just the right time :)
Lisa says
I couldn’t NOT share this! Absolutely beautiful and inspiring!
sofia says
this story touched me in so many ways, you have no idea. See, I was brought up in Europe, where the materialism of Christmas was not present in our family When I moved to the States with my husband and first daughter, that was one of the first things that shocked me and made me amazingly sad. The spirit of Christmas died, right there. Unfortunately as the years passed, I too became the same as others, and sub-came to the craziness of Christmasing presents.
When I was diagnosed with Cancer, 3.5 years ago is when a lightbulb came into me, and I realized how I had changed, how I allowed a lifestyle I was so against had taken over me. Since, I started simplifying my life, and instead, doing more for others, and trying to get away from the commercial Christmas. This year, my younger daughter and I (my older one is about to join our efforts tomorrow), are creating all the decorations by hand and creating memories instead of being at stores.
Deanna says
I love this post and printed it out the first time it ran. When so many are grieving over the loss of a loved one it is a beautiful reminder of the legacy we leave behind. I began the tradition of placing the story in a white envelope and put it in my Christmas tree. It is a reminder to me of the true spirit of Christmas.
What a beautiful testimony of how people move on while grieving during the holidays. I hope you run this heartwarming story every year for all to read. Happy Holidays!
Suzie says
What a beautiful story. Thank
you for sharing this with
your readers.
Gwen says
Thanks so much for posting this! What a motivational read to start the week.
Toni says
Loved reading this again.
Miss Jullep says
Simply beautiful!
Donna Young says
Sitting here in tears, touched so deeply by true heartfulness that your family lives by. Your ‘Mike’ sounded like an extraordinary man & your sensitivity that first Xmas. So many people with so little & so many with excessive amounts of ‘stuff’ Blessings to you & your family