MOM ON THE RUN: Wishing all a warm Christmas

My cell phone vibrates: a text from my daughter. I flip open the phone, and, “OMG it is so sad. This year almost every kid is asking for winter clothes or a jacket or shoes.”

I know immediately what my daughter is referring to, and my heart catches: oh, honey, yes, that is sad. She must be with Mrs. Kulakowski, the Osbourn High School Key Club sponsor, sorting through
the Un Trim A Tree tags, reviewing them, recording them, getting them ready for students, teachers, parents, and administrators to “adopt.” Our school’s Key Club works with the Voluntary Action Center
every year, adopting out needy kids for holiday gifts.

My own family participates every year, adopting as many children as we can afford — each child makes two Christmas wishes, at $10 to $20 per gift — knowing that it makes a difference, that a child’s
holiday is brighter because of us, that we made a few small Christmas dreams come true.

But making a child’s holiday warmer … of course I want to contribute to that, every child deserves a winter coat — brr, I think, looking on the cold, gray, rainy day right outside my window — but how
heartbreaking, that this year, this sad, bad year, children’s wishes are not for toys or games, but not to be cold.

I assumed the need would be greater this year, as the recession has wound on and joblessness has increased. I assumed that the Voluntary Action Center would have even more kids needing gifts than
in years past, and fewer people able to provide them. I assumed I would do what I could, buying less for my own family — honestly and truly, we have so very much more than we need — to give to
someone who is not so blessed.

And, oh, winter coats, I think now, cell phone and text message frozen in my hand. Oh, that just hurts. How can I not do that, not answer that call? I imagine a small child, shivering. I remember the year
my husband delivered to school a neighbor boy who had missed the bus, didn’t want to tell his mom, and was planning to walk all the way to school by himself in the snow — wearing only a thin
sweatshirt.

I’m thinking hard as I sit here. If I’m limited to $20 per gift, how is that going to work? Can I cheat, and pretend a warm winter coat is just $20? Can I make sure to adopt all the kids from one family, then
give them each two gifts plus a coat, ensuring everyone is treated equally? Because coats are essential, but for a kid to get no toys in trade … can I do that?

Another text message interrupts my reverie: “Can you sort gifts Dec 17 18 19? They need helpers.” I flip my calendar to look — I think I could do one of those days. I’ve delivered gifts to the drop-off center
before, and for a minute I remember the scene: craziness, absolute madness, with heaps of assorted gifts, mountains of bulging, gift-stuffed garbage bags, flustered people running around with tags and
lists and tape.

The scene makes me smile, drags me out of my un-Christmasy winter coat blues. And then my phone vibrates again, another missive from my civic-minded daughter: “WE GOT TWINS!!!! :)” Her joy and
excitement light me up, remind me not to be sad, that giving to these kids, being able to give, whether it’s a coat or a toy or, cheating, both, is my favorite Christmas gift of all.

Lianne Wilkens lives with her family in Manassas. She can be reached at liannewilkens@ hot mail.com, or follow her on Twitter.