The Joy of Giving
Years ago, when all four boys were still very young, they decided to use their giving money to buy prizes for the weekly bingo game at the nursing home. Michael came up with the idea when he noticed that the prizes the residents could win were minimal by his standards: a banana, a can of Sprite, deodorant, some magazines. He rallied his brothers to save up their giving money so together they would right this wrong in the world. I have vivid memories of all of us in Wal-Mart carefully choosing prizes. After literally an hour, Michael finally chose a large stuffed dog, Bryan decided on a heart-shaped necklace, Christopher chose a watch, and Matthew found a bright pink scarf.
The next week the boys were giddy with anticipation about whose prize would be chosen first. They placed their treasures alongside the usual prizes on the cart. They waited expectantly as the game began. Within seconds after 82-year-old Esther shouted, “Bingo,” the boys rushed the cart over to her so she could select her prize. All four quickly marketed their prizes for her to consider. She looked. She touched. She said, “Oh my, that’s beautiful.” Then she chose the banana—surprising both the boys and me as well with the reality of what is really valued after you have lived so many decades.
Parenting Magazine asked readers this question a few years ago: “We’d all like to give our kids as many luxuries as possible, but many worry that they’ll take them for granted. Do you think your child is spoiled?” My concern here is not the answer to the question but rather the question itself. Really? We would all like to give our kids as many luxuries as possible? Well I wouldn’t. And I would hope that after reading this book, you wouldn’t either.
Let me put it this way. I love mint chocolate chip ice cream. My kids love mint chocolate chip ice cream. But would I really like to give them as much ice cream as possible? No. It wouldn’t be good for them. The answer is obvious. Then why is it so challenging for us to apply the same logic to material possessions? Giving our kids “as many luxuries as possible” is not good for them or for us.
Inoculate your family from the dangers of our materialistic culture. Nurture your children and cultivate their hearts for giving and serving. Develop strong family bonds that will keep the materialistic culture outside the walls of your home. Bravely become counter-culture. Say no to excess. Stand firm in your convictions to provide your family with a gift that will help them become grateful for everything they have—the gift of enough.
There was one more lesson to be learned at the nursing home that afternoon the woman chose the banana. During the third round of bingo a resident finally selected one of the prizes the boys had so painstakingly picked out. A sweet, older lady with vein-gnarled, yet manicured hands thoughtfully selected the large stuffed dog. (This would not have been my first choice, but then again neither would the banana.) Michael was quite pleased that his prize had been chosen first, confirming that he selected the best one. But then the lady did something that shocked us both. She gave Michael the stuffed dog. “I would like for you to take this dog home and enjoy him. I can tell how much you like it.”
What this woman wanted more than the jewelry or treats was the ability to give. She wanted to feel the joy someone feels when they’re able to make another person happy. Having lived over eighty years, this woman, whose possessions had been reduced to what would fit into a ten by ten foot room, didn’t want any more stuff. She wanted the joy that the stuff couldn’t bring.
Despite a decade of purging unwanted toys and stuffed animals in our home, this dog remains as a reminder about the innate joy of giving. The tattered stuffed dog reminds our entire family that when all the birthdays and book fairs, carnivals and Christmases, vacations and staycations are over—what we have left is the joy we receive from our relationships with people and our ability to give.