My maternal grandmother was always on top of Christmas. She had a lot of grandchildren. They weren’t wealthy – just an ordinary couple of farmers who never failed to remember those they loved. It seemed there was one tradition that always arrived shortly after Thanksgiving. We knew it was coming. Every year it would. Every year we anticipated the contents. What I really remember most about that package was the size of the box. It was huge. in those days, there was no Amazon or special delivery services. She used the USPS to send her packages. She meticulously wrapped each of the contents within. Then she would seal the box with tape, wrap it in brown paper, write the word “FRAGILE” on the outside. I think she tied string around it too. She then would drive to town in their old pickup truck and make the first stop at the post office. Off it went – sealed with a kiss.

The box would conjure ideas of magical gifts, special candy and cookies and lots and lots of love. We would have to wait until Christmas Eve to open the box, but it was always worth the wait. She would send homemade ornaments, socks and underwear, a pair of mittens for each of us. There might be a new box of crayons and coloring books and paper dolls. We would open each package and enjoy the surprises they held. Finally, we would turn the big box into a little playhouse or a prop for one of our plays – whatever suited our fancy.

Traditions come and go. As we get older, we often forget about them completely. Some of them are just too difficult for us to accomplish anymore. This is a special time of the year – not because of the traditions we establish or enjoy, but because the greatest gift to humanity was born into a life of poverty to become one of us. His name is Jesus and His love is bigger than any special box or anything else that this life has to offer. He left His throne in heaven to take our place – to die for us – to live again – to prepare a room for us in heaven. That’s what I call an incomparable treasure available to all of us.