Want One of Your Christmas Presents Now?

My sister Karen and Me. The last Christmas that my father was living.
11:00 PM December 24, 1970 whatever... In Lake Ronkonkoma, NY, several Sekulski kids gathered in the living room, surrounded by shredded Christmas wrapping and bows, cardboard boxes, plastic, twist ties from things like stretch Armstrong and Barbie Whatever.  It was a joke and a custom in our family that my mom would start asking us in October, "Do you want one of your
Christmas presents?"  What normal American kid would say no? So, it's understandable how on virtually every Christmas morning, we had already opened all of our gifts. Not the type of household where gifts sit nicely under the tree on Christmas morning until everyone had eaten their special Christmas breakfast. No, it wasn't like that in the Sekulskis of Arlington house. (There were also 5 Sekulskis on Webster Ave...our cousins, not to be confused with the Sekulskis on Arlington.)
So, when many other families in the neighborhood were just waking up to what Santa had left, we were getting ready to conk out after a long night of playing with the new bounty.  And I don't think there was one of those early mornings that I didn't wonder how she pulled it off. It never felt like we didn't get enough. Yet, I remember many years that my mother (a widow and mother of 5) forewarned us, "I won't be able to get you that much for Christmas this year." It was a downer.
But by the time I was 10, I knew better. I had faith that we'd have plenty before other kids had even opened their first gift.
So, I wondered how she pulled it off. She struggled to pay our bills. And I remember that she always asked us to leave our bath water in the tub so she could take a bath after us.  (Don't cringe. It was survival. And water was expensive in NY. How dirty can a little girl be, anyway?)
Though we didn't have a lot of money ourselves, my mom raised us in a home of giving. Many years we collected food and toys for various Church drives, and drives coordinated by the Society of St. Vincent De Paul. I still do this. Why not help those in need at Christmas time? Even if you are in need too? After all, there were times that people gave to us. I'm sure that more than one Sekulski Christmas was supplemented by caring neighbors and friends.
Mystery solved. Mom, and others, and ultimately God watching over us, gave us wonderful Christmases.
But I never understood why my mother couldn't be more patient. Never understood why she gave us our presents early. And then my 9 year old had a bad day a few days ago. He was acting like a butt. My husband punished him, took away his video games or something, and Luke went to his room crying. 30 minutes later, he came out smiling, and I discovered that my husband had spilled the beans about a special Christmas gift. Luke knew. The surprise was over. I later asked my husband why he did it.
His reply, "I don't want to always be the bad guy. I want to be able to make him happy and give him surprises sometimes." (Incidentally, Bill is a wonderful dad. Hardly the bad guy.) Ding. After more than 40 years, a bell went off in my head. She couldn't wait. Even worse than we couldn't wait. A widow with 5 kids was unable to give all she wanted to give throughout the year. Christmas time gave her the means of doing what she wasn't able to do most of the time.  To say yes instead of no.
It was a total epiphany for me. So, even though we tease and joke about Mom and her interesting Christmas habits, the truth is that it all comes out of love, not some uncontrolled weakness. And it's ok that Luke knows about his Christmas surprise. I get it now. I get it.

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