Every single parent’s story is probably complicated, because real life can be messy. As Christmas draws near, I’m now blessed to be married and live in a wonderful home of my own. Still, life was not always this easy. That’s why the Christmas when I received the diamond necklace is the one that I will remember forever. Back then, as a single mother I wasn’t expecting to get such a costly gift, especially not from my own son.
Raising a child alone, I found the holidays were the greatest reminder of the absence of family, or at least “family” in the traditional way that one expects will be part of the season. Our modest Yuletide celebration bore little resemblance to the sentimental TV commercials where joyful loved ones gather around a large dining table laden with delicious food, a colorful centerpiece, and flickering candles. On Christmas Eve, it was usually just Zach and me, because my mother and stepfather lived in another state, along with most of our relatives.
Despite this fact, when Zachary was young, I tried desperately to achieve some sense of Christmas cheer, while operating within a very confining budget. I never expected any presents, like many solo parents, I only cared that there would be something special under the tree for my precious youngster. Even the Christmas tree in our apartment was a hand-me-down from another once single mom who had remarried and graduated to greater economic stability.
At Christmastime, I tried to make sure there were lots of packages for Zach to open. Not expensive items, just tiny tokens of how grateful I was to have been granted the special privilege of raising him. My dark-haired sensitive boy never expected much or complained that there should have been more. He understood our “situation.”
Of course, there were generous family members and friends from work or church who realized that our circumstances were difficult. Sometimes little blessings like an unexpected gift certificate, toy for Zachary, or a Christmas sweater for me wrapped in festive paper appeared from unexpected sources.
“It’s more blessed to give than to receive,” is an age-old Bible verse that represents the plight of the single-parent family best. You have to learn to give without expectation, because frequently little comes back. But this reminds you that the true meaning of Christmas was never about gifts or trees, but rather about a tiny baby born in a Bethlehem stable.
So it was for most of those first twenty Christmases that my son and I spent together. Along the way, he became a man, moved out and began a life of his own. When Christmas Eve rolled around, a grown-up Zach arrived at my door to celebrate our tradition of enjoying the evening together. There was the usual church service, holiday snacks, and finally we opened our presents.
When he finished unwrapping his gifts, he looked at me with excitement as he proudly handed me a small box. I began to tear the decorative paper, expecting a pair of costume earrings or a gold plated bracelet as in years past. His eyes, eager with anticipation, focused intently on me.
Lifting the lid of the ivory satin case, I tried to hide my shock. It bore the name of an expensive jewelry store. I was barely able to swallow an audible gasp, when I glanced down and saw a diamond pendant and glittering chain resting in the box’s burgundy velvet lining. By now Zach’s deep blue eyes were dancing with unrestrained delight. Apparently, my son understood the importance of giving.
Unfortunately, I had not discovered how to graciously receive, since I had little practice. How much had this necklace cost him? It looked to be at least a ¼ carat diamond circled by a thick band of white gold. The unmistakable sparkle of the stone left little doubt that it was real, and Zach’s ecstatic look confirmed its authenticity. The delicate pendant was exquisite, but my faithful man-child worked hard for his money and he was in college too. I often felt guilty that I had not been able to financially assist him more in achieving his educational and career goals.
Suddenly, I thought about the Christmas sermon from the year before. The pastor had spoken about accepting gifts with appreciation and graciousness, never offending the giver. Sensing my discomfort, Zach abruptly said he wanted to tell me the truth about the gift’s origin. He then shared the tender tale of a colleague who was a young single mom with a little boy. Needing some extra cash, she decided to sell the diamond pendant, because being a gift from a former boyfriend it didn’t possess any sentimental value. Zach had simply purchased it to help her make ends meet, and to bless me with an amazing Christmas present.
All of a sudden, the diamond sparkled brighter and I looked at the glistening gold necklace with new appreciation. Instantly, I realized that Zach had seen our lives and struggles replicated in the life of his co-worker who was also a college student like I had been when he was just a toddler. My gift was a visible witness to the fact that my son had learned the most valuable lesson the season can teach, “It truly is more blessed to give than to receive.”
Christina Ryan Claypool is an award-winning freelance journalist and speaker who has been featured on CBN’s 700 Club and Joyce Meyer Ministries Enjoying Everyday Life TV show. Her recent inspirational book, “Secrets of the Pastor’s Wife: A Novel” is available on all major online outlets. She earned a M. A. in Practical Applied Theology from Mount Vernon Nazarene University and a B.A. from Bluffton University. Her Website is www.christinaryanclaypool.com.
I prayed and prayed that somehow God would help us make that old brick home ours, and was devastated while packing boxes again realizing that this was not to be His plan. I tried to be grateful as God provided a perfect place in a nearby city for my hubby and me to go, one that would finally be our own. But during the move, I seriously injured both of my knees with one requiring extensive surgery. Much of the last six months I have spent in a new community knowing almost no one, trapped inside recovering from painful surgery, further away from my son and with my spouse working his usual 12 hour days. Often, I must admit I have felt forgotten even by God.