Packing Up Christmas

The branches are drooping and the peppermint bark tin is empty. A few gifts, minus their wrapping paper, remain beneath the tree still waiting to be returned to the mall. The Christmas music that so merrily played from my stereo a week ago now seems oddly out of place. It's time to pack Christmas into boxes and return it to the basement.

For many the week after Christmas is one of the most depressing of the year. The preparation and anticipation that occupied so much of our time the past weeks or months has now ended. The parties are over and relatives have returned to their own homes.

Many breathe a great sigh of relief that "the most wonderful time of the year" has passed. The death of a loved one, a broken marriage or unemployment can make this time of year unbearable. How can the whole world celebrate when you are in such pain? How can you rejoice when departed loved ones no longer sit at your family table?

To make matters worse, northeast Ohio is facing the cold, gray marathon that is winter. The picturesque snowflakes so adored on Christmas Eve are now unwelcome. Although the days are technically growing longer, lack of sun and an oppressive sky compound feelings of sadness. 

But a new year looms ahead, and with it new possibilities.

Next Wednesday, when the children of Northampton Christian Preschool return from break, they'll do so knowing there are unlimited possibilities contained in a cold, ugly January day. Their chubby, booted feet will plod down the hall and happily greet everyone in their wake. They will peer excitedly into the sensory table and spend the morning digging, pouring and sifting its contents. They'll quickly grab those old blocks from the shelf and begin building new castles, bridges and zoos with their buddies. Little hands will relish squishing a ball of playdough and artfully molding it into something new. Our youngsters will sing and dance and experiment and play. In the process they will learn to love the world around them. A few snowflakes falling outside the window will elicit cheers from the class. The arrival of the trash hauler to empty the dumpster will be cause for celebration.  Oh, to find so much joy in a simple, mundane day!

Christmas will be a distant memory for these precious ones.  But it won't matter, for these sweet babes know in their hearts something adults too often forget; life itself is a gift from God just waiting to be seized!

May 2012 bring you new possibilities and great joy.

The joy of giving is alive and well!

In this day of mass consumerism parents often worry they are raising children who will be spoiled.We worry that the true meaning of Christmas will be lost in all the plastic junk under our trees. As Americans we are all drowning in stuff and yet we spend the weeks leading up to Christmas purchasing more and more. While you may feel your child is focused on "I want this and this and . . . ", let me assure you that the joy of giving is alive and well in our school. 

This week our sweet ones have lovingly "shopped" through catalogs and holiday ads. As they've browsed through the pictures I've heard "my mom would love this, pink is her favorite color!"  or "my dad says he really needs a new "puter" cuz his won't work." Children know if their older brother loves Star Wars or their sister likes ballet. Egocentric by nature, preschool children are just beginning to understand that other people have interests and feelings. 

Tuesday in our three-year-old class I was presented with a gift. A smiling angel stood before me and handed over a box from our drama center that she had wrapped with a doll blanket. I feigned surprise as I slowly unwrapped her treasure and found plastic animals from our block corner tucked inside the box. As I played along with exclamations of "how did you know I loved giraffes?" the smile on her face grew wider. Within minutes, I was bombarded by similar gifts from all the others in the class.

Just playing? Perhaps. But children learn great lessons through play and the joy on their faces was quite real. I witnessed this same joy as we completed special craft projects this week. As little hands wrapped treasurers in tissue paper and slid them into their own beautifully designed gift bags we discussed the fun of giving and the excitement of surprises.  I'm sure most of these surprises were unveiled before they left the parking lot that day.  I hope their enthusiasm for giving lasts much longer.

We watched many children lovingly bring gifts to their teachers this week as well.  Some were very  generous, some quite simple. Each child was thrilled at the act of giving. I can speak for the staff when I say our favorite gifts are those made by children.  We've received a beautiful assortment of hand-drawn pictures and cards.  I witnessed one sweet child help her teacher unwrap a juicy orange she had brought as a gift.  This little girl went on about how much she loves oranges and especially the way they make the whole room smell.  In her young mind this wrapped orange was the perfect Christmas gift for her teacher--and it was!

In the midst of the hectic holidays may you experience the true joy of your children. May you soak up the delight of the little people who live under your roof. May you experience many bits of magic in the next few weeks. And may you, as grown adults with all the responsibility and worry that entails, have the ability to see Christmas through the eyes of your children.

Cheryl Hoover has been the Director of Northampton Christian Preschool since 1995. 

Suffering from a case of the Christmas crazies?

This afternoon I stood in a long line at Macy's.  You know what I'm talking about-- you've been there yourself.  The 80-something-year-old-woman in front of me took a ridiculous amount of time to make her purchase.  She knew they could find what she wanted on that computer and she was using her 20 percent off coupon that expired yesterday, by golly.  The clerk was sweet and patient with this woman, but the other shoppers were not.  I was humming "O Come, o come Emmanuel" in my head to hide the irritation that was expressed by my body language.  I was hot and laden down with heavy bags.

If you're like me, you're up to your eyeballs in shopping, wrapping, decorating, baking and attempting to create the perfect Norman Rockwell holiday for your family.  Have you found the perfect gift for someone on your list only to return it days later because it's not quite perfect enough?  I have.  It's a genetic condition I inherited from my mother.

Most of what we do at Christmas doesn't matter.  Your children don't care how many cookies you bake.  They don't like tea cookies with nuts in them anyway.  In a day of Facebook and text messages, Christmas cards are unnecessary.  Years from now your children won't remember if your house had enough outdoor lights to dazzle the neighborhood or if your minivan was decked out to look like a reindeer.  They won't remember what the wrapping paper or bows on the packages looked like.  I hate to break this to you but . . . a year from now, they won't  remember that you were up at 2 a.m. on Black Friday to beat out all the other moms to find the perfect gift (at a great price) for Christmas morning.

What your children will remember is having a warm, safe, happy home filled with love.  They'll remember giggling with their siblings, or cuddling up with mom and dad on a snowy night to read a Christmas story.  They'll remember watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer again and again and again. They'll remember the fun of finding a brand new box of crayons hidden away in their stocking and a few Hershey kisses at the bottom.  They'll remember playing with empty boxes and balls of wrapping paper strewn about the family room floor after gifts were opened.  They won't remember what you fixed for Christmas dinner, but they'll fondly remember a house filled with grandma and grandpa and aunts and uncles and cousins and laughter and love. 

So let's make a pact right now.  Raise your right hand and repeat after me: "I (state your name) do solemnly swear to cross off all the unnecessary junk from my Christmas list RIGHT NOW, turn on some quiet Christmas music (I can highly recommend Michael Buble's new CD) and snuggle with those I love most in the world.  I promise to slow down and experience all the precious bits of Christmas that will happen in the next few weeks and not to put pressure on myself to create a perfect Christmas morning.  I promise to meditate on that baby in a manger, sent to give hope to a dark world, and to pass His love and hope on to my own babies."

Huge blessings come in pint-sized bodies!

About sixteen years ago God (and my pastor) began to nudge me to begin a preschool.  My family of four completed, it seemed like a good way to put that Family & Child Development degree to work.  Besides, I thought, this would be the perfect job to combine with raising my family.  So I got busy planning and designing and applying for a state license.  In September 1995 our church doors opened with four staff members and 30 adorable three and four-year-olds.

Now for most women this would seem like no big deal.  But I hadn't worked or been out of jeans for 12 years!

What began as a part-time job has morphed into a rich life experience.  Each day energetic, unique, enthusiastic bundles of joy bounce out of their parents' suvs and into our school.  Hundreds of little blessings have graced our classroom doors and touched my heart in ways difficult to describe.

The purpose of this blog is to celebrate those little blessings. To share anecdotes from our block corner or drama center and tell tales from our playground.  To relay conversations that delve into the growing mind of a child. In short, to peek in to  the fascinating and inspiring world of young children and to marvel at the beauty and innocence these gifts from God bring into my life each day.