A few years ago, a frugal living specialist mentioned she made cheap Christmas gifts by stitching pot-holders out of old jeans. To her surprise, hundreds of fans pressed her for step-by-step instructions.
I’ve not yet gone the jean pot-holder route, but I’m still dreaming of a recycled Christmas. I caught the vision a few years ago when my husband and I taught kindergarten Sunday school, a job whose perks included being invited to the annual Sunday school Christmas party. Requirements for attending: two dishes for the potluck and one “white elephant” gift (something humorous you don’t want any more).
One year I retrieved my party “elephant” from my daughter’s wastebasket, where she’d tossed a black plastic spider ring spit out by a grocery store trinkets machine. I tucked it in an old velvet jewelry box.
At party time, who would choose that anonymous gift but our church’s most eligible twenty-something miss, who taught public school music. Her scream of horror was the party highlight. But true to her gracious personality, she actually expressed delight in her creepy gift.
“I’ll wear this when I direct my children’s choir,” she said. “They’ll watch my hands for sure!”
Oh, the variety of gifts in that room. Like a bar of deodorant soap (what I unwrapped). A nine-inch golf bag. Old rock-and-roll record (actually, a secret Elvis fan got it).Of course, the highlight was waiting to see who got the party’s perennial joke gift. Its recipient was supposed to carefully store it during the year, then bring it back cleverly wrapped for the next year’s joke gift exchange. The gift? A crocheted duck filled with melt-in-your-mouth-not-in-your-hand candy, which it dispensed via an unmentionable place.
In contrast, I shake my head at the advertising that bombards us in this season. Who really parks in their driveway a luxury car topped with a bright red ribbon, just for Mom? Who really needs diamond necklaces or electronic gadgets? It makes more sense to me to honor the Gift-giver, and that’s why the check’s already gone to a carefully-chosen ministry.
No, I didn’t stitch gift potholders out of old jeans (though I did sew the annual pajamas for my sister’s grandkids). But I am thinking of how my family might revive the hilarity of the Sunday school teachers’ traveling gag gift. Let me dig around in the garage. There ought to be something. Maybe even a spider ring…..
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