Two kids playing hockey on an indoor ice rink.
Share
Ages:
all

Stories

How Kindness And Not Greed Is Fuelling Our Family’s Christmas Traditions

BY DAVID A. ROBERTSON

Photo © Lucky Business/Shutterstock

Dec 13, 2019


This piece was written before 2020, when the world changed.


My son, Cole, played flag football for a couple of years before he turned 10. We were trying to get him playing another sport between hockey seasons to diversify a bit, and use a different set of muscles. My family and I were living in Winnipeg’s west end at the time, and the team’s practices were south of Broadway, behind the Broadway Neighbourhood Centre. Kids from the area would usually watch the practices, and after the hour was over, play with some of the kids from the team, including him.

One evening, after scrimmaging with the local kids for a while, Cole said, “I can’t wait to play with those kids next year."

Jill, my wife, told him that he may not get to play with them on a team.

He asked why.

“Some of them don’t want to play, some of them may not know how to sign up and some may not be able to afford it,” she explained.


Natalie Romero doesn't see the value of having kids practice only one sport six days a week. Read that story here


“That’s not fair,” Cole said, “they’re really good.”

“So I’m supposed to play Lego and some kid won’t be able to play football?” he responded.

He didn’t accept the fact that some of the kids may not have been able to play on a team because their families couldn’t afford it. In his mind, if a kid wanted to be on a team, they should be able to be on a team. He asked what he could do.

Months later, for his eighth birthday, Cole had asked his friends to bring money to his party rather than gifts. He donated half of the money to KidSport. In subsequent years, he started to donate all of his birthday money.

“Don’t you want to get something for yourself?” Jill asked one year, “like Lego or something?”

“So I’m supposed to play Lego and some kid won’t be able to play football?” he responded.

I’m going to call this cultivated kindness. All five of our kids, at one point or another, have donated their birthday money to charities in Winnipeg, and this development of generosity has been helped along with how we’ve chosen to approach Christmas.

Early on, Jill and I decided to have two main focuses, one of which was not gifts. We don’t forego gifts altogether — that would be cruel and unusual punishment — but we do limit them in favour of other activities. This hasn’t diminished the magic of Christmas morning for them; they look forward to it just like I did when I was a kid. And they also look forward to the annual advent calendar Jill and I use to promote family and generosity.


Start your own kindness tradition with this advent calendar. See how to put it together here.


It’s not the kind of advent calendar you find at Wal-Mart. You know, the ones filled with chocolate. It’s made of felt, in the shape of a Christmas tree and has 24 small pockets on it. We fill each of those pockets with a folded up note that outlines an activity or surprise for the day. From year to year these notes vary, but some are the same every year. For example, on December 1st, we go, as a family, to get a Christmas tree.

The key focus here is family.

Jill and I want to make sure that we are spending quality time together over the holidays; after all, it’s a rare time of year where we actually have spare time. I’m not traveling or working, the kids don’t have school, sports are — mostly — on hold. In the morning, the kids take turns pulling a note out on the appropriate day and read that, as a family, we’ll be having a movie night or a family sleepover, or we’ll be going to Winter Wonderland at the Assiniboia Downs. Maybe it's a note about a family skating, sledding or swimming night, or we'll be making gingerbread houses together.

And the kids’ favourite is the Christmas Hamper: we’ll find a family with lots of kids, just like ours, and bring them groceries and presents.

The kids like doing this stuff, and what’s more, they like doing it together. But listen, we’re not perfect. Kids are kids. They still fight. James will take the icing that Lauren needs to make window frames on her gingerbread house and there’ll be a short blow up. Cole will hog too much of the blanket during the family room sleepover, or Emily will want to go to her own bed because it’s too crowded. They can never agree on a movie to watch for movie night, so we’ll start it late. But generally, we have a good time, and whether they’re fighting or laughing, we’re all together. There’s more laughing than fighting, I swear!

On just as many days, the folded up note in the advent calendar will have different activities. They’re still things we do together, but we serve others. We’ll shovel a driveway or bake cookies for a neighbour. We’ll pick up Tim Hortons before school and bring their teachers a treat. We’ll buy some pet food and cleaning solution and bring it to an animal shelter. We’ll find a busy parking lot and candy cane bomb it (put candy canes on all the cars for unsuspecting motorists), or go to a hockey rink and tape money to the vending machines. We’ll bring donations to the Main Street Project. And the kids’ favourite is the Christmas hamper: we’ll find a family with lots of kids, just like ours, and bring them groceries and presents.

None of this is to give ourselves a pat on the back, and I know that some of these things aren’t doable for every family. But I guess the point is that Christmas means a lot of things to a lot of people. It’s not about Jesus for everybody. It’s not about gifts for everybody. Jill and I have taken some traditions from my family, borrowed some from hers, made up some stuff from scratch and created our own holiday tradition.

None of us have the same traditions; we make them for ourselves.


Rae Ann Fera believes in teaching philanthropy to kids at a young age. Read her POV.


Cole’s been in the news one or two times for his donations to KidSport. He did not want to be in the news; that’s not why he does it. But we convinced him to, because we thought that if another kid heard his story, maybe they’d start doing it too. One of those media stories required him to be on the radio. I dragged him down to the station, and on the way explained to him what he could expect, because I’ve done a few radio interviews.

What we didn’t expect, however; was that a kid who’d been supported by KidSport was going to be there. That morning, Cole met a kid just like one of the kids he’d thrown the football with after practice behind the Broadway Neighbourhood Centre. A kid like him, who just didn’t quite have the same opportunities that Cole has had. And I think he was glad he went, even though we only got him to say a few words into the microphone.

Seeing that kid said a lot more anyway.

It was late summer, just after his birthday. The tail end of August. Christmas was still three months away, but as we were walking across the parking lot, away from the radio station and towards my car, it felt a little bit like Christmas had come early.

And to me, whatever the holiday looks like for you, that’s what it’s really all about.

Article Author David A. Robertson
David A. Robertson

Read more from David here.

David A. Robertson (he, him, his) is an award-winning writer. His books include When We Were Alone (Governor General’s Literary Award), Will I See? (Manuela Dias Book Design and Illustration Award), Betty: The Helen Betty Osborne Story (listed In The Margins), and the YA trilogy The Reckoner (Michael Van Rooy Award for Genre Fiction, McNally Robinson Best Book for Young People). David educates as well as entertains through his writings about Indigenous Peoples in Canada, reflecting their cultures, histories, communities, as well as illuminating many contemporary issues. David is a member of Norway House Cree Nation. He lives in Winnipeg with his wife and five children.