CHILDREN Simple presents, wrapped up in love

Children are wise when it comes to the true spirit of the season.
By SARAH A. CART
VINDICATOR CORRESPONDENT
You've seen them. They're usually small. Often handmade. Of materials from around the house, the creative potential for which you tend to overlook -- macaroni, cardboard, glue. But most important, love. They're gifts from children; gifts from the heart.
Last year, Thomas Hays of Boardman, 7, went Christmas shopping at Market Street Elementary School's Santa Shop. His mother, Priscilla, remembers his "I've got a BIG secret" excitement when he came home. She also recalls clearly the joy he took in watching her open his gift on Christmas.
"He was so excited," she explained. The gift was a key ring with a heart on it. The heart is made of faceted yellow plastic, "but in Thomas's eyes, it's a diamond. I love it," his mother declared.
The shop: The Parent-Teacher Association at Market Street decided last year to run a Santa Shop again after a long hiatus. Peggy Koch, then PTA president and now finance chair, encouraged the project last year and this year oversaw it. Items at the three-day market range in cost from 25 cents to $5.
"I remember it from when I was a student at Market Street," Koch said, adding that the children's excitement reminds her of her own experience.
"The kids come in for a preview on Monday. Then on Tuesday and Wednesday, they bring money from home so they can shop for up to four items," she explained. "They buy the simplest things and find such joy in the process. It's amazing. It really is." She chuckled as she recalled one wise kindergartner's remarks about a $1 ring at this year's shop: "Ah! That's so inexpensive!"
Do-it-yourself: Children also delight in gifts of their own creation. Rosemary Finley of Howland still cherishes a tray her daughter, now 27, made nearly two decades ago. The proud mother described it as "cardboard, with a beautiful tree at the center and ribbon drawn on the sides." She admitted, "I rarely put it out, however, because my daughter thinks that's ridiculous. But she was pleased with it when she gave it to me, and I love it."
In her role as a teacher, Finley is often a party to the delight youngsters find in the holidays. She teaches children ages 3 to 6 at the Montessori School of the Mahoning Valley in Youngstown.
Many of her pupils look to her for stories about what the holidays and gift-giving mean.
"I love watching their faces. I'll explain about how, for many adults, this time of year makes them feel like a child again. The feeling comes from everything from buying presents to baking," she related. "And then I'll tell the children that feeling like a child again is OK. It's a new concept for many of them, but they get it, and they think it's great."
Finley shares with her pupils her own cherished childhood memories of gift-giving. She describes for them how she and her sister still get together with their mother, Marge Danko of Warren, to make nut rolls. Each December the ritual is a gift that reconnects them to previous generations. "We work from the same recipe that our grandmother and great-grandmother used to follow, and my mother blesses the dough the way they blessed it."
An understanding: Children seem to glean the true spirit of the season from such stories. They grasp the concept that the most precious gifts are those given out of love. Although some parents recognize that intuitively, others need a little time to take the lesson to heart.
As a young parent I treasured the friendship I shared with an older woman -- she died suddenly, too young, not many years ago -- whose four children were nearly grown by the time I met her. She frequently wore a necklace that I had long admired. Finally, I asked what it was made of and where it had come from. She explained that it had been a gift from one of her children, made by small hands but delivering a great message.
The necklace consisted of paper clips, clipped one to the next. Each was wrapped in a thin strip of colorful wallpaper. Those materials could only identified, however, via close observation. What was more obvious to the onlooker whenever she wore that necklace was how she stood straighter, smiled more often and laughed more deeply. That was a child's love with which she adorned herself.
In my own household, I had to receive one present twice before I realized how important it was to the giver. One year, a couple weeks before Christmas, a small painting that I had received for Mother's Day seven months earlier disappeared. It had been perched on a high shelf across from my computer, and over time it had become hidden behind piles of books and papers.
Lo and behold, on Christmas morning, my youngest son presented to me a gift. He had obviously worked earnestly wrapping it. I was seven months late recognizing it, but he had given me his love, painted on a canvas. It now hangs in a place of honor where anyone who enters my office can see it. Most importantly, I see it. Often. And remember that I am blessed.