You just never know.

A story I like to tell from time to time involves a sort of serendipity if you will. In 2013, I was a victim of a resource action at the big tech company I was contracted to. It was not my performance, it was a business decision and about a thousand others got the axe that day as well.

I was not too worried at first, but the economy was bad and after 2 years, I was still looking for sustainable work. It was a terrible time for our family. We came so close to losing the house, and my 6 year old at the time was starting to have a lot of anxiety over whether or not we would be homeless.

One day in early fall, we attended a safety fair. It had trinkets for the kids, demonstrations of firemen putting out fires, huge military vehicles etc. My son and I were looking at the booths and I saw a woman giving out brochures for mental health services. My boy went over to see what free stuff was to be had and I asked about children's counseling. The woman explained available services, then stopped short and asked me how I was doing. She said I looked a really down. I explained my situation and how sad I was that my little boy was bearing the burden or fear, because I was not finding work. The woman then handed me a small stone.

It had a business logo on one side, and the word "HOPE" engraved on the other. She encouraged me to look at that stone, and not lose hope that things could and even would change.  I thanked her and when I got home, put it on my night stand. I would look at it each night and think about hanging on a little bit more.

A few more weeks  pass and each day I am literally hurling resumes out on the internet. I was too the point where I was no longer keeping track of who it was sent to, I just would tailor the resume and send it. I even joined a site where you could apply for several jobs at once.

I get a call, and was asked to interview. I went in thinking it was going to be another day of disappointment, but kept my chin up for the interview. I was shocked to get hired on the spot. I was sent over to H.R. the next day to file paperwork and get a badge. I went home, still not quite believing I had a job. I looked at the badge and realized the logo was the same as the emblem on the stone on my night stand. I trembled a little, because it was not something I engineered, it was just... I do not know, coincidence, divine intervention? I was not sure how to feel, but I took it.

Fast forward 2 more years.

I was in the headquarters building of the company, helping a director by fixing her computer issue. I looked at her and asked if she was the woman who was manning the booth, then told her the story of the stone. I thanked her for the hope she helped instill in me. She got a little teary eyed, and gave me a hug.

I got a letter from her today. She had been thinking a lot about what I said. I had caught her on a day where she had been struggling with a decision to retire,  because she had grown weary of having to solve issues that were not hers to own. She told me that I reminded her that everyone does what they can, and even a small statement can make a difference in someone's life. She ended saying that she was glad that I was here to help make that difference, every day.

She is still here. She has not resigned yet. She is still helping to run a business that helps so many people escape the terrible grip of depression, and addiction.

It humbles me. I did not say anything profound. I just thanked her for saying something to me, that despite being small, made a life changing difference to me.

You just never know.

The Christmas Blessing

Every year, the holiday season comes and goes, bringing joy, laughter, happiness and goodwill.
Just kidding, as Clark Griswald so aptly stated, "We are at the threshold of Hell!"
This year had to be different. I had to make sure that we broke with the striving to have a memorable season, and try and simplify so that we avoided the stress and disappointment of it all.
I wanted to have this:

NOT this:

Every year, I have a plan in my head, one that involves picture perfect moments in front of the tree, swigging homemade eggnog by a roaring fire while listening to the kids sweetly sing Christmas carols while our perfectly decorated home twinkles magically with the warm glow of beautiful, yet environmentally friendly, low carbon footprint, LED lights, (which we bought at 90% off the last couple of years at the department stores!) Yet every year, there is discord, and disagreement over what goes where, which decorations to use this time around, and of course the glorious decision on how much debt to start the New Year with.

So this year was to be different. I would make a less labor intensive plan to execute what would be our best season ever. I planned smaller, cheaper, with less workload. I did not overthink it all. I involved the kids more in the set up. I just about had it dialed in and perfect. ALMOST.

Things got off to a good start. I did not argue over the menu for the Thanksgiving meal. I let my wife dictate how much we really needed. I memorized the public service flyer in the crapper at work on how to manage holiday stress.

We, as a family planned simple, inexpensive and meaningful activities that would warm our cold, icy hearts and fill our heads with good memories for years to come. I talked to the kids about the real meaning of the season. Neither of them believes in Santa anymore, so I was straight with them over perceptions or misguided expectations for this Christmas. Josh went as far as to announce one day, that he did not care if he got any presents, because Jesus was the reason for the season. I could not have been more proud of my son at that point. It was a beautiful sentiment to me, and you should remember this part, as it is important later in this story.

Just a day after Thanksgiving, we had some of our students from China over to help put up the tree and decorate it. We explained to them the meaning of the nativity, and how some of the decorations we put up are really not related to our chosen faith, and are actually rooted in more pagan tradition. I am sure this was a great selling point in convincing them of the true meaning of Christmas, atheist's as they are. The kids began to practice their songs for their Christmas pageant at church, the outdoor lights on timers so they would be less bother, the front yard decorated conservatively, and  the backyard with pretty much every other string of lights, and illuminated plastic statue that we had.
The kids loved it, but the wife, meh, not so much.

I ordered simple, educational, yet meaningful presents for the kids. Amazon was helping take all the stress out of everything. I was avoiding the greed and avarice one experiences in the horrible bustle and rush of Black Friday at the mall.

Everything I did from Thanksgiving onward, I did with careful deliberation. I created scenarios on paper, ran statistical analysis on past Christmas's, did projections, you name it. I was not going to allow myself to do anything that would ruin it all at the last minute. I had a good plan. It was solid, it was smart, it was simple. If I had a whim to add something to the mix I could, at my leisure. We put the old Lionel train under the tree. The kids were loving it. I was happy. I thought it was perfect until...

T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the house...

We went to our church for our traditional finger food pot luck, then a candlelight service. It was beautiful. Afterwards we took our Thai and Chinese students around town to see the special Christmas light displays. I was living the dream. I had the quiet elation of one who had won the battle for sanity in a season of potential chaos. It felt so good.

Early Christmas morning, my kids woke me up asking if they could open the presents.
We watched them scamper around and they were so great. They loved the simple presents. We started preparing the big dinner for all our students and family who would spend the day with us.
My oldest child came up and reiterated how he was so glad that Christmas was about God, and not all about toys and Santa. I think I felt a hot tear run down my cheek and I gave him a hug. It was the best Christmas ever. But then, the doorbell rang.

In walks one of our students with a large box. The kids started dancing around and begging to see what was in it. As they unwrapped it with careful anticipation, I saw the lettering, it was a video game console, an Xbox One! I was floored. I told the student that it was too much and thanked him for such a thoughtful gesture. He smiled and them my oldest son, the one who was all about the baby Jesus and loving the simple things in life blurted; "Daddy, We knew a month ago we were getting this, and we had to keep the secret!"

BOOOM! 

The illusion of my wonderful meaningful Christmas exploded like a dynamite cigar. My moth dropped open at the realization that my kid, my precious understanding son, had totally played me.  I almost uttered the words in my still shocked brain, but I managed to keep my composure and smile at him. After all, I was trying to make it a good memory for all, right? I calmly walked back to the kitchen looking for the egg nog. I poured a large cup and lifted it to toast our happy family. I said some kind words to all and let them know how much they meant to me.

Now I want you to look at this final scene, and reframe this image of Christmas joy. Replace the words calmly walked with "stomped", egg nog with "bourbon" and kind words with "Josh you are a lying a-hole!" That was what was going through my head, anyway.

I understand now that I may be asking too much of my kids to get the whole true meaning thing. I know they did their best. They did make me proud as they performed their songs at church.
We enjoyed the time together, the students were happy to experience a holiday with an American family for the first time. But I guess what they say is true, if you fly too close to the fire, you might singe your wings.