Tim's New Clothes

I remember when I taught in Bremerton some thirty years ago, there was a sad little boy in my class. His mom and his family were on welfare, and it was clear he was outgrowing his clothes. I suspected that the mom, who was busy working hard in her college classes, could not afford to get him the clothes that he needed. I asked her if it would be OK if I bought him some clothes for Christmas. She said that would be wonderful.

So in the next week, I had our school secretary get his sizes. Using the then Sears catalog's size chart, I ascertained that he was between a boys size 9 and ten. I then went to every thrift store in Burien and bought him some very nice jeans and shirts. I laundered them and asked a friend who was an extremely talented seamstress to hem the pants.

A couple days before Christmas break, I gave him the clothes to see if they fit properly. I sent him into the staff bathroom in the office to try them on. He came out and paraded proudly to show the clothes off to the office staff. He had such a beaming smile on his face! Later that day, he came up to me in class and said, "Mr. Lewis, I don't have anything to give YOU for Christmas."

I replied, "Just that you are happy with the clothes is enough Christmas present for me," and I gave him a hug.

The next day, I walked into my classroom before school, and there was a very love worn teddy bear on my desk.

There was a piece of notebook paper with it, saying, "To Mr. Lewis."

Well, I melted into a pool of tears.

Christmas 2014

I am heading into the holiday season, and I am discovering more about how I feel about it, about which my sentiments are mixed. I am starting to sort out my feelings. I am listening to Mannheim Steamroller Christmas cds. Many times I surprisingly finding myself in tears while listening.

I'm discovering how deep a longing I have surrounding Christmas. In my history is a mixed bag of memories of abuse I underwent, along with some joys interspersed. Perhaps I have an ideal idea of Christmas that has seldom been fulfilled.

There have been Christmases where I have been solitary, and the peace was lovely. Now I am married, and I have many interactions with my in-laws and with Jon's friends. There is a spirit of joy and contentment when in those situations. Lately I seldom have contact with my family of origin (FOO). The fear of further abuse prevents me from being close to them. I have concluded that in my FOO, all parties at some time participated in my abuse. My father clearly delineated himself as the higher power in our FOO, and to get along with him, my sibs and mom all jumped onto the abuse bandwagon at various times in the past. I am finding that I can look at my FOO rationally, and without the anger and rage that I previously underwent. I was thinking about my dad's FOO, and I have come to the conclusion that their dynamic was willing to sacrifice one or more of the kids for the "well-being" of the others.

My dad was the scapegoat in his FOO, receiving an abuse similar to mine. I also considered Aunt Helen, who was retarded, and I inquired if she was afflicted with Down's syndrome, as Uncle Frank was. I found out that she was not Down's. She was a victim of shaken baby syndrome. In short she was another victim of their sacrificing. I do not understand why a FOO would engage in this practice, but the evidence is clear that they did. But I am meditating my way into serenity concerning my past.

The past is what it is, and it is immutable. Therefore it is one of those things that I cannot change, and am learning to accept it at face value. I am also learning to tacet myself grace and forgiveness for my formerly continuing in despair for many decades. My fear was what I thought protected me through the difficulty, and now I realize that I am able to be free from the rancor and despair, and that fear is no longer needed in my life to protect myself.