Christmas is the time for giving, generosity, and kindness … except when our inner Scrooge comes out.

Generally most people are a little nicer at Christmas time. People will go out of their way to help others or just be nice in some way.

The other day I came out of an arena and saw I had a really low tire. As I started driving, I was torn: do I try to make it home or do I find a gas station on the way and pump it up? 

It was cold out so I wanted to get home and pump it up in my garage. But I pulled over, got out, looked at the tire again, and realized right away I needed to find a gas station fast.

I pulled into the first gas station I came to but there was a sign on the air compressor: “Sorry. Out of order”. 

I got out of my car to see if there was some kind of compressed air I could buy in the store. 

Before I got into the store, however, a worker came out and told me they didn’t have anything, but that he would hook up the air inside. He then proceeded to fill my tire for me; I just stood and watched him. 

I thanked him profusely and drove home. 

Maybe he would have done that for me at any time of the year, but I think there is some kind of “niceness code” at Christmas time that we live by.

However, I also think there is still a little bit of Scrooge in all of us at Christmas as well. It comes out at the most inappropriate times.   

My wife, Lily, always bakes cookies at Christmas and this year was no exception. About two weeks before Christmas she started pounding out all of the family’s favourite cookies. 

I happened to come into the kitchen when a couple of batches were cooling and I casually said, “It doesn’t look like there is enough cookies.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say because I got a terse reply of, “There is only two of us”.

In my head I was thinking, true, but the whole family will be here at Christmas so that’s technically six of us. It seemed like we didn’t have enough was all I was saying. 

Two days later I’m being scolded rather hostilely for eating all the cookies. … Seems like now Lily is realizing she didn’t make enough. 

But I’m taking the brunt for the cookie shortfall.

The next thing I know is three quarters of the cookies are gone … apparently to the freezer … so I won’t eat them all before the family arrives. 

Lily does a lovely, kind thing in baking cookies but then she hides them from me so I can’t eat them. 

Scrooge.

If it was just Lily, I wouldn’t think much of it. But I remember my mother would bake cookies and then hide them from me and my brother. She had a little Scrooge in her as well. 

I would just like to eat the lovely cookies that were baked. Can’t someone be generous enough to let me at them?

Humbug.

Here’s the thing: We celebrate Christmas because it is when God sent His only Son to us. God didn’t pull a Scrooge; He went all in with Jesus. And Christmas is just half the story because God later had his Son die on a cross to pay for our sins and save us. Then by raising Him from the dead this Son offers us forgiveness and a relationship with God. There is no Scrooge there! 

Merry Christmas!

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How do you tend to be a little like Scrooge at Christmas time? Leave your comments and questions below. 

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