Fond memories of The Fighting Lady

Published: Monday, December 23, 2013 at 03:14 PM.

As the Good Book says in 1 Corinthians 13:14, “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, thought like a child, and reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up my childish ways.”

As a child, Christmas was mostly about me — at least in my own mind.

Not so as an adult. Having learned to be less self-absorbed, I don’t think I’m alone in finding far more pleasure in giving than in receiving. The best gifts I receive now — Christmas or otherwise — are those feelings of satisfaction I get from giving. And I have to be careful here to not articulate that the feelings of satisfaction are about me, because they’re not about me. Life, I’ve learned, is not about me.

No, the feelings of satisfaction I receive are directed to others. They’re about other’s happiness, about THEIR contentment.

My satisfaction now is found in the sense of possibility and the opportunities to make the world a little better place, if even for a few moments, through giving of my time or abilities or from other resources of which I have been blessed.

Yet, admittedly, some of my best memories still center on the joy and wonder of Christmas morning as a kid.

Our family tradition when we were growing up in Willowick, Ohio, was that we four kids could quietly tip-toe down the stairs from the bedroom we shared to rifle through our stockings hung on the wrought iron stair rail with care.

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