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.
Andrew @ Dollar After Dollar says
What a fantastic story. Embracing the true meaning of giving. You have inspired me to do something similar.
Tim says
This is RAD!!! Exactly what the spirit of Christmas is all about!!! Mike lives on forever!!!
Jason@WinningPersonalFinance says
This read brought me to tears. The joy Mike received from giving jumped off the page. I’m sorry for your loss.
I’m trying to teach my son the joys of giving this holiday season. He’s agreed to forgo one of his presents and give it away to an underprivileged child. I hope it becomes a tradition. That child will certainly appreciate the gifts more than my son will.
Alice says
This sounds like the best kind of christmas gifts ever. On behalf of all strangers: thank you for your thoughts and generosity.
Dave says
I am sorry for your loss. That story was touching. You truly are an example of how people should approach the holidays. By giving to those in need, we receive so much more back in spirit.
Theresa says
wow. this is so beautiful. I am sitting here in tears and at the same time I am so grateful to have read this story. Thank you for sharing it with us. We can all learn from this.
Randy and Jeffj Jay says
A lovely holiday ritual. My husband died this year of the “dreaded cancer” too, and I have yet to put up our tree. I am going to take this idea and place an envelope for him in the tree, describing a donation to my husband’s favorite charity, Korean heritage camp, which our family attends every summer, to celebrate our adopted children’s heritage ! Thank you for sharing this !
Lia says
I was at work while reading this and it brought a happy tears to my eyes, knowing what Mike had taught his family. And you are a great woman with great sensitivity, empathy and understanding level.
So proud of you. Mike will always be close to you. Thanks for sharing.
Carmen says
This made me tear up on the bus.
Christina gomez says
That is so beautiful! Christina