The Season of Giving

Generosity and the holiday spirit

Hi Zan, Hi Pa

Volume #7

December 23rd, 2023

Our free subscribers receive only a short preview of these newsletters, but in the spirit of the season we’re making all of this one available to everyone. Enjoy!

HI, PA: As we and some of our subscribers are celebrating Christmas and the new year (or just finished celebrating Hanukkah), I thought it would be a great time to talk about the holiday season and the generosity that comes with it. Do you feel that this is a season of giving?

HI, ZAN:  It seems that the idea of spending a lot of money giving gifts to a lot of people—whether or not those people need anything—derives, at least for Christians, from the Biblical story of the three wise men bringing gold, frankincense, and myrrh to Jesus at his birth.  Crazy!  But I love the generosity of the season, Christmas or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, or however people celebrate it; in spite of the excesses, I love it.  I’ve come to believe that generosity, even crazy generosity, might be the key to our salvation as a society.  

ZAN: An interesting thought, especially since it’s coming from one of the most generous people ever! 

I remember from my years of restaurant service that many customers (definitely not the majority, though) would tip extra during the holiday season, which I always appreciated. I try to do the same now, and put more effort into things like holding doors for people or letting drivers into traffic. It’s easier to be generous to loved ones and buy nice gifts for friends and family than it is to be a little extra generous to everyone, but I like that it seems most people try to spread the generosity this time of year. Would you agree? 

PA:  I do agree.  People seem a notch kinder in December.  When I was a paperboy, just about every customer gave me an extra big tip for Christmas. I had a thick roll of bills on my bureau at this time of year and I counted it over and over.  $95 if I recall correctly.  A fortune for a thirteen-year-old in 1966.

 A lot of adults have happy memories of the gifts they received as kids, their family gatherings, and of the season in general, so maybe that plays a part in the communal generosity.  Artificial as all the Santa stuff is, there’s something about it that can’t help but lift a child’s heart, don’t you think?  I mean, a big, happy old guy sailing around in the sky with his team of reindeer, sneaking into your house to bring you just what you wanted, and wrapping it up so you have the added excitement of tearing off the colorful paper?  Ingenious.  

Do you have a particular Christmas memory that makes you smile?

ZAN: I agree. For me it was less about the presents and more about the anticipation of it all. I remember that feeling of going to the neighbors’ Christmas Eve party each year and singing Christmas songs until past my bedtime. Then the excitement would set in as we left the party and headed home. You and Mom always did such a great job of making it special for us—messing up the fireplace so it looked like Santa had caught his big belly on the firewood, drawing “reindeer prints” in snow on the tops of the cars… 

Once I was old enough to know the whole story, I used to get even more fun out of making the holiday special for my little sister. I had a taste of that old excitement last year when setting up the tree for my niece and watching her rush into the room to see what the Weihnachtsmann (German for ‘Christmas Man’) had brought her. Maybe that goes back to the whole spirit of generosity thing—the fact that millions of adults continue to create this fantasy for their children. I guess we all want them to experience that same joy and glee we remember. 

Did all of that make-believe affect your enjoyment of the holiday? Do you remember your parents doing the same?

PA:  Yes, my parents carried on the tradition of lying to their children!

It was fun for Mom and me when you and Juliana were small.  We used to leave half-eaten cookies and a half a glass of milk on the table in the living room, as evidence that Santa had been there. . . though I think you both saw through the ruse at an early age.  In fact, I just remembered something: you asking me in a deadly serious voice when you were probably four, “Is it the parents who give gifts, or is it really Santa?”  The tone and sincerity of your question made lying impossible, so I told you the truth and asked you to wait a couple of years before telling your sister.

ZAN: I remember that! I think I knew about the Tooth Fairy first and figured they might be similar…

PA: In those days, the kids’ excitement was contagious, a beautiful thing to see, and so now, the day, which I still enjoy, is a bit blander.  I’ve always felt self-conscious opening gifts in front of others.  Mom’s family gatherings were large–her parents, four sisters, their kids–and gifts were opened one-by-one with everybody watching, so, especially as the new guy in the group, I felt in the spotlight. I’m not the greatest gift-giver (some people are, um, gifted, in that way)  but I really enjoy the giving.

I do admit to sometimes feeling a twinge of guilt at the excess, however.  There’s absolutely nothing I need, so everything seems, well, generous and loving but also indulgent.  Should I just let that go?

ZAN: No, because I feel it, too, and think there’s nothing wrong with paring down. (Meaning no need to get me anything big this year!)

PA:  Oof, you shouldn’t have said that!

Zan:  I spent one Christmas with a family in Italy and was so shocked that the parents gave the kids maybe 1-2 gifts each and that was it. They all went to church to contemplate the holiday on a deeper level, had an enormous meal, and spent the holiday weekend lounging around on the couch with extended family. Not much different from the American version of the holiday—except the church part (in some cases) and the lack of an enormous pile of presents. 

As wonderful as it is to be generous and give gifts, I do think Americans who celebrate Christmas can go overboard. Does that take away from the generosity? I’m not sure, but I do think it isn’t necessary. There are ways to be generous that don’t involve spending money. I, for one, can’t afford to be quite as generous as I’d like these days when giving gifts or tipping or picking up the bill when out with friends, but I try to be generous with kindness and patience, even more so than usual. 

What do you think? Is it possible to overdo generosity?

PA: I think a lot of us overdo.  These days, in this country, unless you’re poor, if you give only one or two modest gifts to your kids they’ll wonder what they did to get on Santa’s naughty list.  When Mom’s parents were alive, after years of smothering each other with gifts, the in-laws and I eventually developed a tradition of making charitable contributions in someone’s name rather than giving that person a wrapped object.  The youngins still got the wrapped objects, though.

ZAN: I like that idea—the fact that there’s still generosity involved but in a less direct way. After all, as an adult, getting gifts can feel superfluous, as you can generally buy yourself something if you need it—or at least charge it to a credit card to pay later. Maybe that’s part of why it seems harder to buy gifts for adults than it does for children. What can you get for someone that’s special enough they wouldn’t get it for themself?

PA:  True, though the really gifted gift-givers somehow manage to find something you wouldn’t think to buy for yourself but seems to fit you perfectly.  

Sorry to sound like a grinch—you know I’m not—but I have to say that, in addition to the piles of gifts obscuring what people call ‘the true meaning of Christmas’, they also put me in mind of the vast gap between the haves and have-nots.  I think of the kids who see the toy ads everywhere and whose parents can’t afford to buy them even the simplest doll or plastic truck.  We always contribute to the Toys for Tots campaigns and things like that, but even the need for such programs stings my heart a little. 

ZAN: I agree, and that’s a good reminder for me to go out and get some gifts for Toys for Tots. That charity is a nice example of generosity around the holidays—at least a lot of people are thinking about those for whom the holiday is more of a sad occasion than a chance to rip open dozens of gifts. 

I’ll admit that, as someone who generally has more than enough, it’s easier to forget about those “less fortunate” (kind of an icky phrase) during the rest of the year. It’s not like the recipients of Toys for Tots magically have all their needs met when the holiday season ends. 

PA:  Right.  Exactly.  And ‘icky’ is the word.

ZAN:  This makes me think of one of my favorite books of all time: Frances Hodgson Burnett’s A Little Princess. Have you read it, or do you remember the movie? It’s the story of a young English girl who comes from a wealthy family and is sent to boarding school after growing up in India. For the first part of the book she is showered with lavish gifts and considered a princess by her peers, then suddenly she discovers that her father has died and left her with nothing, and the boarding school headmistress cruelly makes her a servant. Throughout it all the young girl is incredibly generous--sharing her luxuries when treated like a princess and giving away the little food she has when a pauper. The book is one of very few that has made me cry, as I always found the character’s enduring generosity so beautiful. 

PA:  Great story.  I never heard of it before this moment.

ZAN:  We definitely watched it together… 

PA:  Oops.  Well, at least my short-term memory is still fairly good.

ZAN:  All this makes me wonder: is generosity something you can turn on and off, or is it a quality that some always have and others don’t?

PA:  Seems to be an inherent quality, though I imagine it’s possible to change.  The negative side of that—lack of generosity—makes me think of certain Buddhist phrases.  “Poverty mentality,” is one.  It refers to people who continually worry about going broke or being hungry.  They’ll store up money, food, and things for a day down the road when there might not be enough, even though there’s very little risk that day will ever come for them.  And another, similar one, “hungry ghost”, which is a person who’s like a bottomless well.  No amount of money, food, attention, sex, power, etc. is ever enough.  You can see that in certain billionaires.  “Enough” doesn’t seem to be in their vocabularies. 

I once heard a wise spiritual teacher advising people who are inherently cheap to start off by ‘giving’ something—an orange, a dime—from one of their hands to the other, as a way to practice being more generous. I personally find stinginess to be an odious trait.  “Frugal” is a nice word for it, and frugality can be a good thing.  But some of the self-described ‘frugal’ people I’ve met are just tight-hearted and tight-fisted.  Isn’t there an expression in Italian about having ‘short arms’?  Do you know that one?

ZAN: Yes, someone with le braccia corte. A great image. 

PA: Can’t quite reach their pockets when it’s time to pay the bill, right?

ZAN: Exactly.

PA:  You and I are both really comfortable (another euphemism, sometimes) without being close to wealthy by American standards.  Where should our line be?  How much should we give?  I know a few people (very few, like two),  who actually tithe.  I’ve never come close to giving away ten percent of my income, but it would be a nice goal.

ZAN: We could (and maybe will) dedicate a whole other essay to this topic. Finding that line between being too generous (is there even such a thing?) and not generous enough is a deeply personal issue and a lifelong challenge. When I get a particularly good piece of writing news I try to balance that out in some way by donating money or giving an extra generous tip, but it’s tough when I think about all the bills I’m responsible for and realize that my financial goals feel really far away. 

At this phase of life I try to be extra generous with my time and attention. I volunteer with kids once a week—as I have since I was a girl scout—and try to give each person I come across my undivided attention and deep respect. During this holiday season I’m trying to stop rushing through my errands and daily tasks and instead taking that extra second to hold a door for someone or letting myself get into a conversation with a stranger in public that goes beyond the normal pleasantries. After all, it’s the collective actions of millions of individuals that makes holiday magic--I hope to contribute what I can. 

PA:  You’ve always been good that way.  As is the case with a lot of other aspects of life, I think it’s a matter of striking a reasonable balance, not trying to be totally selfless, but also not turning ‘wants’ into ‘needs’. 

Somehow, though, for me at least, it’s impossible to spoil the spirit of the season.  I just auctioned a few of my signed books to benefit the Bethel A.M.E. church in South Carolina—do you remember how graciously we were welcomed there?—and the bidders were amazingly generous.  That kind of generosity fills the air in December every year, as if, for a little while at least, we’re acknowledging how connected we all are, how each of us is facing one kind of challenge or another, and how we all appreciate an opening in traffic, a held door, or a package wrapped in colorful paper.  What do you think the world would be like if everybody was as gracious as the A.M.E. worshippers, and not just in December?  

ZAN: I absolutely remember how warmly we were welcomed at those A.M.E. services, even as the only white people and obvious outsiders. And I think generosity when it’s least expected—including beyond the holiday season—is the most impressive kind. Being generous during the holidays feels right because everyone is doing it, but being generous on a random dreary Tuesday in February? It can be harder to summon the courage to be generous then. 

I wonder if part of the reason people are extra giving at this time of year is that it comes only every twelve months. We can channel all that generosity and goodwill into just a few weeks, then relax knowing we’re off the hook the rest of the year. 

Maybe part of the ease of being generous during the holidays is the fact that we don’t just give during this time, but receive, too. This giving and receiving isn’t perfectly in balance, of course, but it can be easier to send kindness in someone else’s direction when we know some is coming our way as well. That’s why I like the idea of “paying it forward,” because sometimes a stranger’s random act of kindness can inspire our own. I do wish I experienced or witnessed more of these kinds of moments—each time I do it really renews my faith in the power of community. Are we capable of being generous and gracious and kind year-round? Honestly, I’m not sure. Are we more likely to be generous and gracious and kind when other people are the same way to us? Absolutely. 

Which leads me to the question: where does generosity come from? Do we build up a store of it when others are generous to us, or is there a well of it flowing deep down inside that we can access even when there is no other generosity or no holiday spirit in sight?

PA: Not sure, but I think generosity has its roots in the feeling that we have enough.  Maybe we don’t have every single thing we’ve ever wanted, but we do have enough of what we want and need.  Some people, rich and not-so-rich, just keep multiplying wants as they chase after a degree of contentment that forever eludes them.  And others, poor and not-so-poor, are satisfied with much less.  In those people, to varying degrees, the urge for more, more, more is trumped by consideration for others.  

Let’s end with this, Zan:  Describe one really important non-material gift you’ve received recently.  And Merry Christmas.  Your birthday was this week:  an amazing gift to Mom and me all those years ago.

(Photo source unknown—found on Facebook.)

ZAN: Merry Christmas, Pa and readers who celebrate! 

One really important gift I received recently was a representative at Kroger Specialty Pharmacies going out of his way to help me get an important medication on time for my recent travels to South America. It would have been far easier for him to have told me it was impossible to schedule an early delivery because of the holidays, but knowing the importance of getting a dose on time, this representative somehow found a loophole and got me my medicine. I am especially grateful for his holiday generosity. 

PA:  Perfect, Zan.  Blessings to all in 2024!

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