The Most Valuable Gift You Can Give Is Your Time

Holiday season is a difficult time of year. As much as it is wonderful to be surrounded by loved ones, the constant press of people is nothing short of exhausting. This is not the only thing that makes the holidays challenging, however, and it is this other thing about the holidays that bothers me most.

When you are a child, the holidays are a time of magic and possibility; when you become an adult, you realize that the holidays are a time of year for people with disposable income, or at the very least for people who don’t mind being in debt from December to July.

What bothers me most about the holidays as a young adult struggling to get my feet under me in this world is that I don’t have enough money to make it enjoyable in the conventional sense for myself, my family, or my friends. Rampant consumerism applies undue pressure to those who wish to participate in the spirit of the holidays, and if you don’t have the dough to buy gifts for everyone you love, you can find yourself lost in a feeling of despair and desolation.

We celebrated Christmas Eve this year as we always do with a candlelight service at church followed by appetizers and the exchange of gifts with family at my parents’ home. The service was wonderful, the food was great, the crowded room with two screaming children under the age of six was a heartwarming kind of abject chaos, and the exchange of gifts was simultaneously joyful, humbling, and depressing.

My family showered us with gifts; really, it was far too much. They took the time to purchase and wrap the things they knew we needed, and the things we had expressed we wanted as well. Meanwhile, I was only able to provide my individual family members with one present each, and they weren’t the best as far as presents are concerned either. I hate to be outdone when it comes to generosity; at the very least I like to be even. But this year, I could not hold a candle to what they bestowed upon us even if I tried.

At the end of the evening as we were getting ready to go home, my father gave me a hug. I found myself on the verge of tears, and I told him I was sorry that the Christmas I delivered was so modest this year, and that hopefully next year I would be able to do better. He held my face in his hands and told me that under no circumstances was I ever to say that to him again. I understood how he felt, and I said that I would not, but the shame at being unable to spend money on him the way that he did on me followed me out the door.

On Christmas day we purposefully did not make any plans; we slept in late, we took our time, we ate delicious meals, and we relished in a rare moment to relax that we do not often get to enjoy. I helped myself to regular binges on Facebook as my friends and family on social media shared pictures and stories of what they were up throughout the day. One story struck me as it rolled across my feed; the wife and daughters of a dear friend and mentor were spending the holiday in Hawaii. He passed away in January of this year, but it was his wish to have his family enjoy that vacation, so they went to honor him. Their pictures were bittersweet, and his memory stayed with me for the rest of the day.

Later in the evening after my daughter was in bed, I found myself thinking of all the lessons he used to impart upon me in the form of unsolicited one liners as he wandered through the. Adages such as, “common sense is not very common” were the kind of things he said on a regular basis. There was one other thing he said often, however, and it was the thing that struck me as singular and incredibly important on Christmas day as I mourned my inability to make my family’s Christmas special with gifts of material goods. Whenever we would have conversations about how best to manage my busy life, the thing he always said to me was that the most valuable gift I had to give anyone was the gift of my time.

So, it’s not the newest gadget, the most stylish garment, or the price tag on the item that tells your family and friends that you love them during the holidays, or any time of year for that matter. Instead, the greatest gift you can offer to the people who mean the most to you is the gift of your time. When you slow down, unhook, unplug, and unwind in the interest of nurturing your human connections, it is more meaningful than anything you can wrap in a box and finish with a bow.

You don’t have to battle shop with thousands of people in big box stores, you don’t have to go broke to show them you care, and best of all it is a gift you can give at any time of the year. Spend time with the people you care about; they want you more than the stuff you think they’ll like anyway.

In the true spirit of Christmas, and in the memory of Dale Tran