Christmas is over and I feel like a grinch for packing the decorations away so quickly, but as I read the blogs from my fellow potatoes, I am reminded that Christmas is more than just stuff. It is David's mom's love for (and pride in) him, that she expressed so beautifully while she was here on earth. It is Edie's homesick soldiers and their silent thoughts. It is the grass and water under the bed at Carmen's house. It is Christy's sharing of Christmas in The Little House on the Prairie. It is in all of us when we take time to remember and to share those memories with others.

So... here is my memory.

I was ten and the only thing I wanted for Christmas was a Baby Tender Love doll (well someone in this group has to be shallow). Mom and dad said she was too expensive (I believe she cost $12), so I braced myself for "disappointment." When all the presents were open, though, my mean old big brother, Bob, brought out one more. It was the Baby Tender Love doll, and as I ripped open the package I was happier than I'd ever been. But it wasn't because of the doll (okay, maybe partly/mostly because of the doll), it was because of the person who gave it to me. I was a pain in the neck little sister, still am, yet he bought me that wonderful little pink doll that drank a bottle and wet her pants.

While Baby Tender Love now resides in a landfill, my gratitude for Bob's generosity is still with me. In the 38 years since, no one has surprised me as much as he. And no one has taught me more about giving from the heart.