“Selfish to Elfish,” New Era, Dec. 2020, 10–11.
Selfish to Elfish
While thinking about my gifts, I became Santa’s not-so-eager helper. But then everything changed.
Illustration by Laura Proietti
On Christmas Eve when I was 14, my extended family gathered at my grandma’s house to have a Christmas program and do a small gift exchange, just like we did every year. It was fun to be with my cousins and the rest of the family, but I couldn’t help but think about all the gifts that were waiting for me back at home. During all the festivities, I was anxious for Christmas Day to come—Christmas, after all, was about opening presents.
But before we could leave, we had one more tradition to take care of: “adopting” a family for Christmas. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, the adults found a family in the area that was in need of help, got gifts for the kids, and then someone in our family would go out and deliver everything to the family on Christmas Eve. I never participated much in this activity—sure, it seemed like a nice idea, but I never even knew the people we were delivering to.
After the festivities ended, we gathered the gifts and put them in my dad’s pickup. My dad even put on a Santa suit before leaving. There were a lot of gifts to take, so I got nominated to go with him. I was given an elf hat and became Santa’s not-so-eager helper.
But my attitude started to change on the drive over as my dad told me about the family. Their situation was heart-wrenching. Just a few weeks before, the dad had left them, so now the mom had to take care of the four kids on her own. As we drove up to the house, it was all dark. It was almost like I could feel the family’s hopelessness coming from the house.
We knocked on the door. That sad feeling went away as soon as the door opened and the kids saw who had come to visit. They shouted, “Santa’s here!”
I stepped into the house with the gifts and felt the Spirit so strongly that I almost started to cry. When I looked over at Dad, I could see he was holding back tears too. The kids were all running around saying things like, “This one has my name on it!” or “This one is for you, Mom!” As we passed out the gifts, I saw that the mom was crying tears of relieved joy. I got the sense she had told her kids that Santa wouldn’t be coming that year.
The kids and mom all hugged us and thanked us as we left. My dad and I rode back to my grandma’s house in complete silence, neither of us able to express with words what we had just felt and seen. It had been such a rare and beautiful experience, and we were both trying to savor the feeling.
On the drive home, I wasn’t worried about my own gifts anymore. I realized that what I had felt was just a small portion of the love Jesus Christ feels for us and that as we serve others, we can help them feel this love too.