Sunday, January 11, 2009

Looks Can Be Deceiving

This is only the fifth Christmas you've ever had in your life and probably only the third one you even remember. It was hard enough to sleep last night and finally morning came. You ran out to the living room to see all the presents that accumulated overnight. It takes all the strength you possess to resist opening the presents.

You barely have an appetite for breakfast, but endure it agonizingly while the adults seem to blab more than eat. Why does there have to be a rule that breakfast comes before opening presents?!!

Finally, after an eternity, the adults finish and you run into the living room excited to open your presents.

The first present you open is a pretty cool toy. As the rest of the family takes their turn opening one present, you scout-out your next target. Of course! Across the way you see the largest present you can find with your name on it. If that smaller-sized present was so cool, then surely the largest present will be the best thing in the world!

When its your turn again, with a giant uncontrollable smile, you race across the room to the giant present almost tripping over the torn wrapping paper and empty teaser boxes because you are so excited.

You tear off the wrapping paper--almost slowly to soak up every detail of the experience. Its a teaser box which is like opening two presents in one! The best present, ever, must be inside. You pull open the first flap, the second flap, in an instant you are peering down inside the giant box. You reach down to grab the 'greatest present in the world.'

All of your excitement and anticipation dash to pieces like that Christmas Ball your brother pulled off the tree a few years ago. You try to hold a smile, but you are overwhelmed with disappointment as you pull the puffy coat out of the box. How could this be?!!

No matter how hard you try there is no way to hide your true feelings. Anger swells up and pours out like Eggnog. You are screaming--almost crying--that you don't want a coat. You swing the coat through the air and beat it against the ground over and over again, until you feel someone grab you around the waist. Your feet lift off the ground. Wrath continues to spill out of every inch of your body. Your mom carries you off to another room. You continue flailing your arms and legs the whole way out.

The next time you walk into the living room, you are not much less disappointed, but you are calmer. Mom helped you kind of understand that the person who gave you the gift might feel bad by your previous behavior. Being sensitive to that idea, you do all in your power to try to find something good about pulling a coat out of the biggest present with your name on it.

You acknowledge the benefits of the coast the best you can. Then you notice it has a little compass attached to the coat. "It has a compass!" Your countenance brightens as you recall a recent visit to the zoo, "Next time I get lost at the zoo, I can use this to find my way back!"

Damage control successful! ???

You were disappointed at first, but it's the only Christmas present you enjoy using every day!