“It is a small envelope set among the
branches of the tree. It has no identification, no name and no
inscription. It, however, has shown up every year for the past 10
years.
It all began because my husband Mike hated
this time of year. It was the frantic running around that seemed to
miss the true point of the holiday season.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year
to bypass the usual clothes and so forth. I was in search of
something special, and the inspiration came in a most unusual way.
Our son was wrestling at the junior level, and
shortly before Christmas he participated in a league match sponsored
by an inner-city church.
These youngsters were dressed in sneakers so
ragged the shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them
together. They were in sharp contrast to our boys in spiffy sports
attire.
As the match began, I was alarmed to see the
other team wrestling without headgear. It seems, this was a luxury
their team could not afford.
We ended up walloping them.
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 is when the idea hit me.
That afternoon, I went to a local sporting
goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling gear, and sent it
anonymously to the inner city church.
On Christmas Eve, I placed an envelope on the
tree, the note inside explaining what I had done. That was Mike’s
gift from me.
His smile was the brightest thing about
Christmas that year and in succeeding years. This became a tradition
in our house, and we all looked forwarded to the envelope on the
tree.
Mike died of cancer a few years ago. However,
when Christmas rolls around my envelope has since been joined by
three more.”