T H A N K   Y O U   F O R   C H R I S T M A S       (999 words)
 

   ‘Who gave you the puzzle?’ asked Mom. It was Christmas morning and I was sitting in front of the Christmas tree surrounded by a whole bunch of presents. Some of them I’d already opened, like the Game Boy I was playing with.

   ‘Michael!’ Mom asked again. ‘Was that train puzzle from Aunt Alice? Or did she give you the book on elephants?’

   I was busy with my Game-Boy, so I didn’t look up.

   ‘Hey, I’m talking to you, Michael’ said Mom again. ‘And by the way, who gave you that Game Boy?’

   ‘You,’ I answered. Duh!

   ‘Did you say “thank you?”’ she asked me.

   ‘What?’

   ‘Did you thank me?’ she repeated, taking a deep breath. ‘For the Game Boy?’

   ‘Oh. Uh, well – I don’t remember.’

   ‘Neither do I,’ said Mom. She sounded kind of grouchy. She went out of the room, then came back a minute later with a pad of paper and a pencil.

   ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘let me know when you want to open the rest of your presents.’

   I looked up at her. ‘Why?’

   ‘Because I want to show you how to do something first, before you open them. Something very important.’

   ‘What?’ I asked.

   ‘How to write a thank-you note,’ says Mom, all nice, like she’s offering me a plate of cookies. ‘It’s about time you learned.’

   I groaned. I mean, wouldn’t you groan too? ‘Mom!  It’s Christmas!’

   ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘I noticed. And Christmas is all about giving, as you well know.’ She frowned as she looked around the room, taking in all the presents, opened and unopened.

   ‘Nobody expects me to write stuff on Christmas!’ I said. But Mom just shook her head.

   ‘You get presents at Christmas,’ she continued, ‘so I think it’s a good time to say thank you to everybody who sent you something. This way you’re giving too, in a way. When you send someone a thank-you note, you’re giving them something really unusual, something really special.’

   ‘I can say thank you on the phone!’ I yelled. ‘I can e-mail them!  I can text!’

   Mom nodded. ‘Sure, go ahead and do that too. I don’t mind.’

   ‘But nobody sends thank-you notes anymore!’

   ‘Yeah,’ says Mom, ‘that’s true. They are rare nowadays. So like I said, thank-you notes are something really special. Just think of how pleased everyone will be when they get your letter.’

   ‘But can’t I do it after I open the presents? Like tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow?

   ‘Like last year when I asked you to write thank-you notes?’ said Mom, raising her eyebrows. ‘Or the year before?’

   Oops – I’d forgotten! Too bad Mom hadn’t.

   ‘No, Michael,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Do it now and get it over with. You’ll only have to write one short note for every present you open. Surely that’s not too hard for a smart kid like you?’

   Do you know what she made me do? She made me write a thank-you note then and there. Before I opened another present, I had to write to my Aunt Alice and thank her for her stupid train puzzle. It took me ages. And I had a lot more presents to open, too. 

   ‘Who’s this one from?’ asked Mom, two packages and two thank-you notes – and two hours – later. My fingers were already killing me, so I was taking a break. A long break. Mom was holding up a present with shiny red paper and gold ribbon.

   ‘Uncle Isaac,’ I told her. I couldn’t wait to open it, either. He always sends great stuff.

   ‘Right then,’ says Mom, ‘You get that note to Grandma written, and you can open this one next.’

   ‘Oh, Mom!’ This was going to take forever!

   ‘Michael, no one has to send you all this stuff. People send you presents because they love you, because they want you to have something that you’ll enjoy. And lots of kids –’

   ‘I know, I know,’ I said. ‘Lots of kids in the world don’t get anything for Christmas.’ I do know this too ‘cause Mom is always telling me about all the stuff lots of kids don’t have. She tells me a couple of times a month at least.

   Mom just stared at me. ‘Well, they don’t,’ she said flatly. She stared at all the presents under the tree. ‘And nothing for Christmas is just for starters, too. No food, no schools, no place to live – sometimes they don’t even have clean water to drink. It’s not your fault, Michael, but doesn’t it seem wrong for you to have all these presents when there are kids in this world who don’t even have pencils?’

   I shrugged and sighed. I mean, I’ve never met those kids.

   ‘Just think,’ said Mom, ‘if I took all these presents back to the stores they came from, I’ll bet I could feed a whole village with the money I got…’.

   I stared up at her. She looked kind of thoughtful. Like she meant business.

   ‘Okay, okay, what should I say to Grandma?’ I asked quickly. Mom stared back down at me again.

   ‘Dear Grandma,’ she began, in her robot voice. ‘The green sweatshirt you sent me is really awesome…’.

   I sighed. Grandma’s green sweatshirt sucked, but I started writing anyway. It did take forever, too.

   That night when I went to bed there were still twelve presents I hadn’t opened yet. And I had a stack of thank-you cards to mail, too, along with a donation Mom was making to a Christmas charity. She says her money will help to dig a well in a town where they don’t have any water.  That’s my Mom for you. Giving someone a well for Christmas. I bet they’ll be thrilled.

   Anyway, it’s all over now and I’m grateful for that. I’ll bet I’ve made you more grateful now, too. Grateful you don’t have my Mom.