If I think real hard and go back many years I can remember a night when I thought all Christmas was ruined. It was a typical cold night in mid-December; the kind of night that feels so quiet and calm as if holding it together until the jubilant and chaotic joy that is Christmas day. I was sitting alone on the couch, the only person in the room, watching a mindless TV show through the reflected glow of our Christmas tree covered in multi-colored lights and mismatching ornaments. Out of the quiet and still I heard a soft thump from somewhere outside but didn’t think anything of it. Not 30 seconds later 3 loud bangs echoed off the window pane directly above me! I jumped off the couch in fright and peered through the glass window to see a man dressed as Santa Claus eerily squinting at me from the front porch! I immediately began a frantic debate in my mind of whether those eyes were full of joy or mischief. He nodded at me and with a thick, black mitten pointed towards the front door.
Very timidly I made my way to the hall and yelled upstairs to my mom, saying “Mom, someone dressed like Santa wants to come inside!” As I waited for my parents to slowly make their way downstairs my mind debated the intent of this supposed Santa Claus. After all, I thought, what a great disguise to wear when robbing a house! This was it I thought, no Christmas presents this year (I never thought that maybe this Santa was going to take money, jewelry, or anything but all the Christmas presents my parents had stashed away in their secret hiding spots!). FINALLY! My parents arrived and told me it was okay, to let Santa in, he was here to visit my brother, sister, and I. And with that, all the fears went away, calmed by the innocent and relentless trust a young man has in their mom and dad. Indeed, Santa was there to give presents, stopping through on an early mission to spread joy and happiness to kids everywhere.
You know who that Santa was? It was Jim Vejsicky, my middle school math teacher. It wasn’t until years later that my dad revealed the secret identity of this jolly man. And for a few years, Mr. Vejsicky would stop by dressed as Mr. Claus, giving us little presents and candy canes, always somehow knowing our names even though I was sure I had never introduced myself to Santa. Mr. Vejsicky was a teacher, a member of the community, and an avid basketball fan. On a few snow days, when I was in middle school, my mom or dad would drive me to the gym and I would walk in to find Mr. Vejsicky setting up metal folding chairs around the perimeter of the paint. He would take the next hour or so and teach me about shooting with a quick release, driving to my left AND right, and staying low on defense. I don’t know that my parents ever asked him to do this with me, or to dress up like Santa Claus and visit us before Christmas. But he did.
I’ve often wondered if maybe the best gift we can give is to invest ourselves into those around us. Not through monetary gifts, or even just time spent with someone else. But to invest a part of ourselves…knowing that we may never get anything in return for what we give. It is a true form of sacrifice, and I find myself this Christmas thinking of all those investments people made in me. My parents of course, that is immeasurable, Mr. Jones my phys. Ed. Teacher, who talked to me endlessly on how to be a better player, Dr. Huey at Westminster, who let me come over to his house and borrow books from him and listen to me babble on about Ohio State, Mr. Griffin and Mr. Kite in North Carolina, who in my first, very difficult year of teaching took me to basketball games at ECU and would watch my class for me so I could return home sooner over the holidays, Debbie Mihalik at Geneva, who spent hours talking with me over coffee and always offering to go out of her way to do numerous little things for me, even when I didn’t ask, and sometimes when I asked too much. And of course Mr. Vejsicky, who sacrificed his time, his energy, and invested a little of himself in me and my family. He never had to venture out into those cold December nights, but he did, and it made a difference.
I’m not sure who would say I have invested in them; my hope is that I have carried on the example these people and many others provided me. And I hope this Christmas to ask the question, who am I making a sacrifice for and whom am I investing in? It truly is a great gift to give part of your life to someone else and ask for nothing in return.
You know how this Christmas story ends? I don’t remember what Mr. Vejsicky brought my brother and me… but I remember he reached deep into his big red bag and pulled out a leather held sleigh bell and gave it to my sister. I remember how my sister looked when she saw it, the surprise and mystical awe of wondering which reindeer this bell used to belong to. This past weekend I asked my dad about that gift, he said it was a crucial time for Abby, she was starting to… ‘wonder’ about Santa. And I think it was only fitting that the moment I stepped foot inside my parents’ house this past weekend for our family Christmas, the first toy my niece Alex showed me was a tiny, leather held sleigh bell….and it was not my sisters, but a new one….a sacrifice and an investment by someone into the joy and wonder of a wide-eyed and curious 7 year old girl.
Merry Christmas to all of my friends and family.
Andy
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