HOLIDAY AFTERMATH Getting the kids to say thanks has notable difficulties
However, the rewards are priceless.
By SARAH A. CART
VINDICATOR CORRESPONDENT
Once the joy of Christmas passes, cold reality sets in. It's time to extend thanks. For gifts. For hospitality. For children old enough to say or write their own thank-yous.
But wait. Any parent with children old enough to take on that responsibility knows there are risks. You hope you've taught your children well. You've tried to instill honesty and gratitude. You've tried to impart a sense of responsibility. At this point, you can only step aside. And keep your fingers crossed.
Will they express genuine thanks? If the gift is one they didn't want, will they manage to find something positive to say? Or will they be painfully honest?
Kay Conner of Boardman laughs with joy when she speaks of her only grandchild. Rachel Russell lives in Connecticut. Often, Rachel's thank-yous come out in telephone conversations.
"Even as a little child, she'd tell me, 'Oh, Granma! You shouldn't have spent all that money!'" Conner related, "Then when she was 7 or 8, she told her mother, 'You know, Granma shouldn't spend so much. One of these days she's gonna run out!'"
A genetic trait: As for her granddaughter's approach to the task of putting pen to paper to express thanks, this loving grandmother chuckles. "Oh, she procrastinates." A moment's hesitation, then "Just like her mother did." At 86, Conner brings a sense of perspective to the issue.
She confessed, "Getting my daughter to write her thank-yous was like pulling teeth out of a chicken. Which is pretty tough since chicken don't have teeth!"
Conner related the gist of that long-ago mother-daughter bargaining. "We'd go on and on. 'Tomorrow you must,' I'd tell her. Days would pass. Then eventually we'd compromise. Finally, I'd tell her how good she'd feel just to be done with it. I'd tell her to simply write 'Thank you for the gift. I love you,' and sign her name."
What had Conner learned about the task from her own mother? "Oh, my mother had to get the sword out to get me to write!" she admitted. "She'd give me plain note paper. Nothing on it to use up any space. Then she'd tell me 'You're going to start this afternoon. Write three a day until you're through.'
"When I'd dawdle, she'd tell me, 'The longer you put them off, the more tongue-tied you become. Your mind goes blank.'" Conner concluded, "You know, she was right."
Out of the mouths of babes: Elsie Dursi, executive director of the Mahoning Valley Association of Churches, shared a favorite thank-you story. It was about when a friend, now in his 30s, was 6 or 7. In great excitement, he sat at the base of the Christmas tree and opened a beautifully wrapped gift from his grandmother.
As Dursi recalled, "The present was something immensely practical, like pajamas. With his arms raised and his eyes wide, Jimmy burst out, 'Oh, Grandma! Pajamas! Just what I never wanted.'"
As a mother of four, I've supervised countless thank-you-note writing sessions. The kids sit at the kitchen table and write while I work on dinner. If they're productive, I produce dinner. It's a symbiotic relationship. But it seems to work. The notes get written. And sometimes, the results are priceless.
Noteworthy: When he was 8, my son received a cornucopia of gifts from his grandparents. In response, he scribbled, almost neatly, "Thank you for the socks. Because there [sic] real easy to put on and there [sic] real warm. And thanks for the baby radio. I haven't found batteries for it, but I'll be really happy when I do. And thanks for the hat. I like it so much I even wore it at school once or twice.
And thanks for the T-shirt. I haven't wore it yet, but it will look real nice. And thanks for the book. I can't find it, but when I do, I'll read it a lot more than once."
His grandparents thought it was great. As his mother, I cringed and bit my tongue.
A year later, he closed another thank-you note to them, "I don't know where you find this stuff, but keep it coming!" Again I bit my tongue. It still hurts. At this rate, it's going to hurt until he has kids of his own. I'm looking forward to their thank-you notes.