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Inner Strength By John Burl Smith
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For some people, Christmas is a time filled with joyful memories of family, exchanging gifts, lavish dinners and wonderful gatherings shared with friends. But for others, it is a very difficult period haunted by memories of economic hard times, feelings of despair and a conspicuous absence of the fairy tale surprises on Christmas morning. For many people, this dichotomy is part and parcel of the whole idea of Christmas and the commercialization that diverges entirely from what is supposedly the reason the day is celebrated. Clearly, my early experiences place me in the latter category; nonetheless in my youth, I drew strength from witnessing the struggles of my parents and those around me. My wife Dot and I grew up amidst challenging times for most black families. Our families escaped the harsh life of sharecropping in Mississippi -- my family in 1944 and her family in 1953. The move up did not take us to the "promised land" as our parents were led to believe. At best, the move was just a step above the abject poverty of slaving in cotton fields that left many black families teetering on the brink of economic collapse. Even after arriving in Memphis, Tennessee, the day to day survival needs hung over our parents like "the Sword of Damocles," requiring not only a great deal of ingenuity by our parents, but an enormous amount of fortitude, persistence and self-sacrifice to keep their families afloat while navigating the murky waters of segregation. Although not oblivious to these facts of life, with the arrival of the Christmas season, along with our gleeful anticipation of Santa Claus' arrival, we ignored the increased burden on our parents with our continuous chatter of toys and gifts. The task of year-round survival was a paycheck to paycheck juggling act for our parents, whose economic viability hung on the whims of chance. However that reality did not stop them from trying to shield us from the debilitating impact of poverty, and each year they mortgaged the family's future using their willingness to struggle even harder the next year as collateral. How and where they found the faith and strength to cast caution to the wind each year to give their children that one day of hope and happiness is even more amazing today than it was then. The idea of giving of one's self to see joy in the eyes of those one loves must have served as a counter weight to the tremendous economic burden they placed on themselves each year. Consequently, the arrival of this season always leaves Dot with a sense of guilt and depression, knowing her parents gave so much to receive so little in attempting to fulfill a fantasy. However, I believe that far from the commercialism that dominates the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ today, in an otherwise drab and desperate world, the small pleasure our parents derived was worth the hidden pain behind their eyes, because it was about bringing joy to others. Rather than feeling depressed because giving to those they loved made it harder on them, we honor them and their effort by remembering their sacrifice, which comes nearest to the true meaning of Christmas - as a time of renewed hope, if only for one day. Even though our grandchildren, as most other children their age, are steeped in receiving and lack an appreciation for the joy of giving, the challenge for parents today is to not try and cover over the hard times we experienced by giving children stuff we never received. Today, it is all about me! Children have little concern for what it takes to purchase $200.00 games, designer fashions and other high tech gadgets. What seems to be missing now from parents' efforts is the inner strength to tell our children the truth about the gift of Christmas and not let receiving from Santa Claus be the reason we celebrate. The inner strength of parents must serve as a counter weight that says no to the total commercialization of the idea of giving as opposed to receiving. As children, our family lived with a "shared sense of sacrifice." Although
we wished for all kinds of toys and gifts, in our hearts we knew we would
not get everything we wanted. If we were lucky, we got that one toy we
craved. The intent here is not a nostalgic stroll back to what may seem
the "good old days" of Christmas past. It is a plea to rekindle what parents
of those days communicated to their children regarding caring and sharing.
Their sacrifice and giving extended to each member of the family and from
each member to one another then out into the community.
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