The Gift of Giving

I have always spent every penny I had on Christmas. Going back to my earliest childhood memories, my brothers and I would “hunt” in the forest circling our home and shoot mistletoe out of the trees with our BB guns, then tie the bundles with shiny red ribbons and sell them from our red wagon so we could buy the perfect gifts for our parents—a crock pot for her and a Brooks Brothers tie for him. I recall the days when I bought my eldest brother a semester's worth of books for medical school and, in the days of layaway giving, my mother her first fur.

And now, during these uncertain times, the holidays are upon us. We're worried about our 401(k)s and IRAs while we can barely muster the strength to hold the gasoline nozzle as the price approaches the cost of college tuition. So what to do? Spend or save? I say spend, but thoughtfully.

My darling Anabelle was barely 11 when she coveted a particular brand of jeans, which were simply the jeans to own. Having recently divorced, money was very tight. But without those jeans, life as we knew it would stop, the European Union would collapse, there would be social ruin, and permanent psychological scars would be inflicted on my tween. Confronted with her nonstop entreaties (plus promises of perfect posture and immaculate grooming) she was poised to cry right there in the junior department at Saks. I did the grown-up thing—and, in my opinion, the holiday thing—and hustled her into the nearest dressing room and had that “talk” all parents should have.

I asked my child one question: “Would you rather have those jeans or have money for presents for your cousins and for your grandmother and for your uncles? You choose. The money is yours.” She jumped up and down, ran to the perfume counter for her grandmother, Jojo, and then to the marked-down Izod area for the many men in the family. When she was done, there was no money left and she said to me, “This is the best Christmas!”

Back at home, I quickly found the jeans discounted on the Web and she cried when she opened her present. A proud momma, I gave her a grand holiday cheer. As long as we have even the tiniest gifts to give, and the loved ones to give them to, Anabelle and I are as happy as Christmas elves. Though, if Santa is reading this, we wouldn't refuse some matching Jimmy Choo flats.