A LUMP OF COAL AT CHRISTMAS As I was committing to joining MK in eternal companionship I recall being promised that if I remained faithful to the covenants I was making, I would have the blessings of joy and rejoicing in my posterity. Over the last 50 years, this blessing has been fulfilled many times, as promised, and is still evolving. I recognize part of this promise of having joy and rejoicing when I see my grandchildren do to their parents what their parents did to me. However, what I have learned from my children in the process has become the greatest blessing. While this story is not about our worst case of parental failure, it is accurate to say that, like many non-Christian traditions at Christmas, teasing our small children was not the greatest idea we ever had as parents. You may recall the old European tradition of giving coal instead of presents to misbehaving children. This predates the Santa tradition we know. Sometimes moss or weeds or garlic were placed into the stocking of children perceived to be bad. When the first Santa tradition started there were no chimneys, so he had to use a door or window. With indoor fireplaces, somehow it became more exciting to have Santa come down the chimney, bearing gifts for the good little girls and boys. The story makers of the day figured that coal would be in a handy place, next to the fireplace, convenient for Santa to pick up and give to the bad children when he came down the chimney -- or so the story goes.
Ever the optimist, MK saw the humor in the coal story and has used it to encourage good behavior. One Christmas, when our children were small, she was less amused with me than usual and thought it would be funny to put a lump of coal into my Christmas stocking. She told me about her plan and we both laughed and thought that our own children would go along with the fun. Oh, surprise! They were horrified to find the only thing in my stocking was a lump of coal. The oldest burst into tears and told her sisters that daddy had been bad and wasn’t getting any presents that year. They all gathered around me for a tearful interrogation about my faults and imperfections. What had I done that was so terrible that Santa Clause only left me coal? I gave a weak excuse about Santa probably confusing my stocking with someone else’s stocking. Soon they were reassured and distracted with an otherwise over-indulgent Christmas and forgot about their pain. Not me -- I am still reminded of that lump of coal and how important it is to come from a loving home with parents you can trust.
Christmas traditions are wonderful and fun. I prefer those traditions with eternal perspectives. However, I am still grateful for the lesson I learned from a lump of coal. I remain thankful, that I have not had to confess any faults to my children that they were not already aware of. They have all grown up and recall this story as a fun memory. Now they have to explain their imperfections to their own children -- if they get a lump of coal in their stockings at Christmas.
Ever vigilant,
RT
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