Growing up as a kid, there was always something on my list. But now that I am older, my list seems to become less and less “full.” Especially this year after moving out to go to school. It struck me the other day when I was on the phone with my mom after she had asked me what it was I was wanting for Christmas. This year was incredibly financially difficult for my family to say the least, so I kindly told her I could not think of anything even though I have a credit card bill over my head. Nothing bad, but a bill none-the-less. After looking over the year and how fast it zoomed by, I honestly did not think of anything I needed nor anything I wanted.

But my loving mother insisted, which got to me on a level I did not thought I would experience quite yet. There was a time when I did not have much at all. Where taking old trading cards to the flea market just to afford a happy meal for a day on the weekend was ordinary every day to me. A time when the only clothes we could ever afford were bought from Goodwill or hand-me-downs from friends of family or other family members. A time when we, as a family, did not have much to give physically. Yet I always remember my times then being my happiest.

I guess it is because I was not distracted by all the flashing lights of many toys or the mountains of wrapping paper from tearing up many presents from under our old, artificial tree. Instead I had two parents who tried their best to provide for us when times were the hardest and when we did not have much to our name.

Now, we live in a very nice home and these past several years have gotten away from us. We found ourselves becoming more fortunate and able to afford more things. We took nice trips and had nice name-brand clothes. Everything we could have asked for was given to us. We became clouded by our wants and wishes of having things, things, things, thinking it would fill a void we were constantly trying to fill in.

But now I look into my parents' tired eyes and find them content when I pull into the driveway after a long journey Home from my home that I have now established in Athens. The same content when my brother flies home after much training in his military career. The same content when my brothers and I are all huddled on the couch, enjoying the warm moments of games and movies and chats and much food always catching up on the latest gossip wherever it may be.

That same content we had many years ago when we had little to nothing—but a lot of love. I could not express how thankful I was to my mother tonight after our Christmas doings were all done. I almost cried but did not hint her that for her own sake.

After many years of many Christmases of time and true gifts getting away from us, I found it again, and that, by far, is the best little Christmas of all.