More Than Just Money

Dearest Rachel –

As with laughing at one’s own jokes, I realize full well that talking about the gifts one gives is, to put it mildly, bad form. Even Jesus himself condemned those who announced loudly when they presented their gifts to the temple (and essentially originating the expression “to blow one’s own horn,” as the offering receptacles were shaped like trumpets; the large number of coins being poured into them would make an attention-grabbing noise, not unlike that of slot machines delivering a jackpot at a modern-day casino), saying that in the process of making so much noise about their own generosity, “they have received their reward in full,” implying that this wasn’t an act that would give them any credit as they attempted to march through the gates of heaven in the end.

But there’s something about packing a box for Samaritan’s Purse’s Operation Christmas Child that makes for a bit of a story – particularly since I’ve never really done this on my own before. It’s all very simple to just write a check to an individual or organization – and if one has the wherewithal, it could hardly be easier. But this is something that’s a bit more hands-on than just presenting the funds. You have to determine what sort of child you’re shopping for, as their needs and wants are different, depending on their age and sex. Then you have to actually go out and buy these items, as it would also be bad form to be sending household hand-me-downs. And most challenging of all, you have to pack these items in a standardized shoebox for shipment to… wherever.

At this point, I imagine you’re wondering what got into my head to actually do this, for once. And I’m not entirely sure, although I have a few thoughts as to what got into me. For one, there has been the fact that I’ve been in the booth for the past couple of weekends, and the project has been advertised in church with each service, so I’ve seen the blurb at least six times (or between eight and ten, if you count video checks beforehand). Among other things, the drive at our church has been for everyone to participate; not so much as to have one box for every attendee as much as at least one box from every attendee. I’ve long been lax on this particular program, assuming (correctly, I dare say) that others would pick up the slack I behind – I have seen myself as participating in enough programs that staying out of this one wouldn’t be so damaging, after all. But given how this year, the drive has been so worded as to strongly recommend we all get involved, I won’t say I was ‘convicted’ to throw my hand in, but that may be the closest term for it that I can give.

You might remember how, back in the day, our church was something of a distribution center for the operation maybe fifteen or twenty years ago, when the program was in its infancy (as, for that matter, was Daniel). Back then, we would spend an evening in the fellowship hall downstairs, assembling boxes in an almost assembly-line setup. That’s really my last hands-on involvement with the program. However, I am aware that the rules have changed since those days; we used to pack things like candy and crackers and (to offset those treats) toothpaste and toothbrushes. No more; only the toothbrush could still be found in a box these days. Food might get stale or crumble in overseas transit, and liquids aren’t particularly welcome in packages. So I have no idea how to assemble what is needed or recommended for a kid halfway across the world. I needed expert advice.

Guess who’s been doing this for years throughout the past decade?

I asked Erin if she wouldn’t mind helping me out with the shopping, and she readily agreed. Apparently, she was planning to cut back a bit this year (she also has a few items that didn’t divide up properly from previous years), but would be willing to aid me – and Daniel – in assembling our own boxes. She was the one who pointed out that I’d need to take age and gender into account in terms of what to buy, and noted that “the older kids tend to get overlooked,” which I took as a recommendation as to who to target (she also noted that boys seem to get shorter shrift than girls, so… another means to narrow down what we needed to shop for.

Interestingly, at least the older boys have a pretty good option for what the organization considers a “wow” item; the marquee gift among a collection of smaller and more useful items. There’s nothing like a decent soccer ball when it comes to keeping older boys active and happy. The one caveat is that one needs to include a pump to re-inflate it, as a fully inflated ball will not fit in a shoebox – well, they might fit in that box your thigh-high boots came in, but that’s not longer an option, as the organization provides a specific, standard-size box for us to fill so as to not give any child too much or too little compared to their peers. So a deflated ball and pump it needs to be.

With that established, Erin ran us throughout Meijer, collecting various school supplies and hygiene products (we didn’t go so far as to provide them with Axe body spray, though, no matter how popular it seems to be with boys that age here in the States), as well as a few less significant (or bulky) toys. Due to both our schedules, we had met at a little after seven last night, and by nine, I was starting to get tired, but it was nice to have nearly everything assembled. It was also nice to be out shopping like this – it felt like those times when the three of us would go grocerying together. Granted, we picked up no groceries this time around, and there wasn’t quite the same level of banter between the three of us for obvious reasons. Still, it was a surprisingly comfortable feeling to the process – until we had to check out.

I mentioned that it was in poor taste to brag about one’s own giving; likewise, I think I said something about how Erin had made plans to cut back on assembling shoeboxes of her own to donate. That being said, how much bragging could I be doing when our purchases ended up being less than half that of what Erin picked up for her own project along the way? And that’s before we threw in our collection of store coupons; with those, our bill was barely a quarter of hers. But they were still enough to fill three shoeboxes.

It took a few large rubber bands to close the boxes (and I’m still not a hundred percent sure that all three of them will necessarily survive the trip), but they are now all packed and ready to take to church this weekend. Hopefully, whoever ends up with these will enjoy them this Christmas.

Erin has since pointed out that, in the future, I could just go to the organization’s website, and have them pick out items and pack a box for me; all I would need would be to supply a payment to them for the trouble (as well as their expertise, as they would, after all these years, be absolute masters at assembling these things, as opposed to the rank amateur I’ve proved to be). Easy, just the way I like things (which, upon reflection, makes it seem an odd suggestion to receive from her, of all people, as she tends to like doing things the hard way, more often than not. Then again, she knows me too well). I might consider that in subsequent years – who knows?

But until then, honey, keep an eye on these boxes, and whoever they end up with, wish the kids luck. They surely need it more than I do.