Idaho faith: The best Christmas gift? It’s in Jesus and your heart, not under your tree

Said Ahmed-Zaid, one of the Idaho Statesman’s other contributors, was originally scheduled for the faith column this week, but he suggested we trade places so that I might celebrate Christmas with you. That was such a gracious offer, and I thank him for being so considerate.

Christmas 1963 was memorable. I was a homesick college freshman trying to get home to Parma from Portland. I had been working and saving my money to purchase a bus ticket, as well as buy a few meager presents for my family. Trailways labored across the 400-plus miles over many hours to finally deposit me in front of Sealy’s Drug Store in my hometown. My dad and brothers were there to greet me.

That August, when my dad took me to the train station in Nyssa to go to college, I had to smirk at the old-fashioned, out-of-touch man who waved goodbye. But in conversing with him at Christmas, I was amazed at how much wisdom he had gained in the four months I had been away.

My homesick dreams faced the reality of a family that was struggling to make ends meet. There was not much cement work available for my father at that time of year, and the little church he pastored did not provide much financial support. The scrawny tree with bubble lights hardly presented a majestic Christmas setting. There were a few presents, and my pitiful offerings did little to enhance the scene.

I enjoyed the church services with the singing of my favorite carols. Dad’s message reminded all of us about the reason for the season. I was overjoyed to note the church ladies were still handing out the little brown paper bags filled with an orange, chocolate drops, peanuts and ribbon candy. I was momentarily filled with joy to be with the people who meant the most to me.

But my joy quickly morphed into deep disappointment. On Christmas morning, I unwrapped a pair of “Real Silk Hosiery” socks and an Eversharp mechanical pencil. I was all right with what I got because I knew my large family was struggling to do the best it could. But that satisfaction soured when I began to visit the homes of my friends.

At one home, I was invited to be a spectator to the family opening their pile of presents around the tree. After digging through her multiple toys, sweaters and other expensive gifts, one girl looked up and said, “Is this all?”

At another home, one of my friends proudly showed off the slightly used car his parents presented him for Christmas. I tried to be happy for those so blessed, but when I was asked what I received for Christmas, I answered vaguely, “Oh, just a bunch of stuff.” I was embarrassed at the inequity between our poverty and their abundance.

I knelt at my little bed as if kneeling at the ancient manger, and wept out my frustrations. But there came a Christmas peace that settled a lot of issues in my life as 2 Corinthians 8:9 flooded my spirit: “Though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich.”

The faith and love for the babe in the manger given me was of greater value than any present anyone had received that morning. I felt more enriched by God’s grace than the value of my friend’s new car or the pile of presents under the tree. Those gifts would wear out, but what I possessed in my heart was an eternal, abiding presence.

The 18-year-old kid who boarded the Trailways bus back to Portland was far more content and mature than the cocky young man who had come home. Maybe it was my dad’s turn to be amazed!

To bow at Jesus’ manger might be the most valuable and lasting gift you could receive this Christmas. Why not kneel with me and share the peace available at this holiday?