On Thursday, my wife left with my kids and dog. I had to work all day on Friday, so she took off to get an early start on Christmas at my brother’s house. I followed Saturday morning.
Two nights with no whining, and a bed to myself.
Friday afternoon, my wife called to tell me about her day.
When she got to my brother’s, she took her tailgate down to get the suitcases out of the back of her truck. She left the plastic container full of presents in her truck, since we’d be exchanging presents at my parent’s house nearby.
Friday morning, she left to feed her shopping addiction for a few hours.
When she got to the giant store that had our new car seats on sale, she discovered that she had neglected to put the tailgate back up on the truck when she unpacked. This was the box that held most of our budgeting overspend.
When she called me, she was retracing her steps, hoping to find the box.
I was upset.
She didn’t find the box on the side of the road.
Normally, this would be a strong object lesson in the futility of rampant consumerism. A lot of zen-like “the stuff you own is fleeting”, amidst the wailing of children who are discovering that their Christmas presents evaporated in a ditch somewhere.
Somebody found the box. I don’t know who.
Whoever it was, opened the box and saw the tears of small children inside. She read the name tags and, amazingly, recognized enough of the first names to place the family.
Keep in mind that I live more than 100 miles away, and moved out of the town 15 years ago.
This anonymous Christmas elf brought the box into a nearby gas station, and asked them to call my parents, since the names on the tags matched those of my parents’ grandchildren.
Everything was still in the box.
Everything was still intact.
Anonymous Christmas Elf saved Christmas for my family