The Very Good Christmas
Merry Christmas everyone. It is time to tell a Christmas story.
For those of you who have wondered, Elaine and I are not the biological parents of our second batch of kids, I know, now you are wondering what this has to do with Christmas. Be patient, Christmas stories take time.
Somewhere in the world lives the twins’ biological mother. No it is not Ivy; our daughter. The twins’ biological father was our son. Telling the story of how elaine and I became legal parents is not a very Christmassy story, so I will leave it for another time.
Our story begins a couple years ago, after staying away for eight years, the twins’ biological mother tried to make contact with the twins. Bio Mom (Bio Mom is not what the twins call her. The twins call her something that is not very flattering, and no, I did not teach them to call her that. (Why am I blamed for everything?) BioMom sent the twins each a birthday card containing a substantial amount of money.
If you have been gone for eight years and want to get someones attention, send them money. Unfortunately, for the Bio Lady, (I can’t call her Mom.) her plan did not work. The twins put the money in their rooms and told Elaine and I they did not want to meet her.
Over the last couple years, the twins have come to expect a card/money at Valentines/birthdays/Christmas. Boy Twin and I ran into her at Wally World, It was uncomfortable for Boy Twin. He insisted we leave Wally World so he would not see her again. Both twins ran into her at a park. Again, it was just uncomfortable.
OK, let’s make this story a Christmas story.
The twins and I were Christmas shopping one evening last week. We had completed our business at the checkout counter. I picked up our stuff and glanced back at the young lady in the line behind me. We made eye contact and smiled at each other. I noticed her purchase was going to be five or six packages of “chinese” noodles, The noodles made of straw and fiberglass.
Driving home I must have been in deep thought.
Girl Twin: Monner, what’s wrong? Me: I was just thinking of the lady with the noodles. Girl Twin: What about her? Me: I hope that isn’t her only food. It is Christmas time, I wish I would have helped her. Girl Twin: Monner, I want to help (my friend) for Christmas. Can I help her? Me: Why don’t you tell me what’s up? Girl Twin: I’m afraid (my friend) is not going to get Christmas presents. I want to give her the money I got from (unflattering Mom name.). (I told you they call her that.) I really don’t need the money. Boy Twin: I want to give her my money, also.
I drove home in the darkness fighting back tears. I can’t tell you if they were tears for the family or tears of pride that the twins would do that for people. (I’m kinda wimpy like that.)
The next day Girl Twin and I dropped off a couple things for Girl Twin’s friend and her brother and sister. We knocked on the door and ran. We would have got away with it except Girl Twin left our store name on one of the packages.
That, my friends is the meaning of Christmas. Go help someone, it makes you feel great. Plus if you have white hair and a long white beard it makes you feel like Santa. If you can use Diablo’s (I told you it was unflattering) money it is even better.
Our crazy lives!
