What God Wanted for Christmas

Today was the last day before Christmas break at my high school. And, as any teacher knows, on this particular day, the brains of children everywhere turn to mush. So, what’s a teacher to do?

I’ll tell you.

Proclaim the day movie day, game day, or party day.

In my case, it was all three.

My third block students volunteered to bring in goodies and drinks to share with their classmates. Uno was pulled out of backpacks along with Spanish bingo. And the children all gathered together to play these games.

The make-up of this class is varied. It consists of a young man who knows very little English, four bi-lingual students, two African American males, two cheerleaders of the “beautiful people” group, and a newly enrolled transgender who had only been in the class two weeks. Many of the other children were absent because they knew there’d be little learning going on that day.

Well, they missed out. And so did you. And so did the whole world.

Except for God.

Because today, we gave him a present. And I know he’s up there smiling.

Here’s what we put under his Christmas tree if you’re curious.

The gift of sharing and sacrifice

The mounds of food on my classroom desk were piled high, each brought by a student who cared enough to buy for more than themselves. Before bringing the food, they asked for the class’s favorite cookies, chips, and drinks.

And on this day, the giving was beautiful. It was a unique form of self-sacrifice.

The girl who loved Taki’s handed the last bag of them to another student and took the Cheetos she didn’t like nearly as much.

The child who wore the same pair of clothes three days a week brought in doughnuts for the class, an act which most see as nothing special. But whatever poverty lie in wait for this child at home, someone had decided his joy at contributing was worth more than the last few dollars they needed to purchase presents for their family.

The gift of love and acceptance

As I watched this class play games together, I thought how great the world would be if we replicated these students’ actions.

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For example, the boy who could barely speak English gained the courage to step in and participate. And the courage was created by the other students, waving him into the group and promising to translate if he didn’t understand.

The transgender child was asked to join as well, even though he probably knew none of the names of the other students.

The cheerleaders were also begged to join the group, even though their lives and privileges would forever give them an edge over the primarily low-income students in my class.

But in this ninety-minute period, their race didn’t matter. Their status didn’t matter. The only “privilege” in the room was the privilege of being alive — a privilege all of us have to bring joy and love to hearts that need healing.

And that’s what my beautiful students did today.

The gift of hope and the possibility of change

Today, the children turned their back to the social media sites begging them to hate. Today they didn’t write cruel texts to their friends about the “low lifes” or “nerds” or white chicks who thought they were God’s gift to the world.

Today, they celebrated each other. Helped each other. And banded together to give a bloody nose to a world that continues to try to divide them and make them hate each other.

And I love them for it.

The bottom line:

God, if you’re reading, there’s hope for this world. Don’t give up on us yet. There’s so much love to be spread around, and my third block class is hoping you saw their party.

They’re hoping you saw so you can believe your world will one day be filled with the amount of love you intended.

We hope you enjoy the gift. I know it was the best present I’ve gotten and maybe it will be your favorite too.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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