A joyous Present-less Christmas, minus a brother, plus a Dane

Last Christmas marked the first year that my family began our “no-presents” tradition. We had attempted to veer from gift-giving for several years, but guilt and habit led us to continuous failures. We always felt our loved ones should open something on Christmas morning. Last year, we broke our habits. We celebrated Christmas present-less. And it was one of the most meaningful Christmas mornings I remember.

This year – round two – came easily and naturally. Instead of running madly through the malls on a frenzied present hunt, we spent the days preceding Christmas sleeping late, baking cookies and lounging in sweatpants. We prepared for a day traditionally meant for spending time with family and friends by doing just that – relaxing with family and friends.

On Christmas morning, with tears in my eyes, I watched my usually reserved father explain to my friend Kristina our reasons for changing Christmas tradition. Kristina was born and raised in Denmark, but has spent the past four months in a study abroad program at Tulane University. My family spent our first Christmas ever without my brother Dan this year, as he is currently traveling Asia, so it seemed a perfect opportunity to welcome in a new friend.

“We may not exchange presents on Christmas anymore,” my dad explained to Kristina, “but having you here with us is a special gift for our family.”

And what a special gift this was for me to hear considering the valued friendship Kristina has given me during this first semester at Tulane.

On Christmas Eve, we spoke to my brother in Nepal. He has been working on a local family farm for several weeks. Though the family does not celebrate Christmas, Dan and his friends wanted to buy their new Nepalese friends gifts anyway. These gifts included bubble gum, cigarette paper and a pack of cigarettes – each which held value to the receiver.

Last Christmas, we found new meaning in the practice of paying it forward. I like to believe Dan is taking what became a devalued concept of gift-giving in our family and applying it with meaning. A pack of cigarette rolling paper to one poor Nepalese man, I dare say, holds different meaning than a plethora of wrapped clothes, video games and jewelry that an average American may open Christmas morning.

Even more, I wonder how much money families would save if an American child expected only a gifted pack of bubble gum on Christmas morning.

My point is not to convert every American family to our no-presents tradition. This concept works for my family because Christmas shopping over the years had become a stressful chore. We spent more time and energy during the already-busy holiday season developing gift ideas than enjoying family and friends. I do hope, however, that we might further consider the meaning in what we are giving on Christmas and, more importantly, consider what we need.

As I type this post on Christmas afternoon, I realize everything I need surrounds me. In fact, I have more than I need. I sit on my Apple computer by a softly flaming fire with family and friends around me. I am happy. I am healthy. And I have nearly eight dozen Christmas cookies waiting for me in the kitchen.

“Oh, for the good old days when people would stop Christmas shopping when they ran out of money.”

Author unknown