Whudjagit . . .

. . . fer Cwismas?

Many years ago, before Christmas vacation was blandly renamed as “the winter holidays,” the second best thing after that l-o-n-g break was returning to school so kids could ask and answer the most important question of the new year, "Whudjagit fer Cwismas?" I remember a girl in my kindergarten class proudly showing off a new gift created just for little girls - called a “Barbie doll.” (Nearly a decade later, defensive boys would be heard emphatically stating “It’s NOT a doll! It’s a “moveable fighting man.”)

Sometimes it’s just too easy for children to amaze their parents. Although we never actually discussed it, my mother was understandably impressed that her little boy had -a gift for guessing the gift - concealed beneath the wrapping. Mom was not one lacking in intelligence, but in all humility I must confess, there are only so many ways to wrap a hockey stick.

By God’s grace I have moved through the Christmas blessings of a childhood lived in a loving home, into even richer blessings as a husband, father and grandpa. Although my understanding continues to grow, by that same grace I’ve always had the answer to “Whudjagit fer Cwismas?” I got Jesus. We got Jesus.

“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given;” (Isaiah 9:6)