Cindy-Lou Who Says Give Books for the Holidays
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Behind my desk, overshadowed by Mount Mac and eighty unanswered emails twinkling out over snowy mounds of paper, I peer down at the shoppers rushing around the garland-bedecked shops of Rice Village, I just feel Grinchy. Christmas. No time, no money, no motivation. Looking down at Who-ville, I think about not giving any presents. We’ve all been over-saturated with material goods for the last decade, why don’t we just go cold-turkey?
And then a little Cindy-Lou voice pipes up in my head: “But why, Santy Claus, why?”
Since I was just a little bigger than Cindy-Lou, I have always been the keeper of the holiday flame. We dressed up like pilgrims on Thanksgiving and made spider sandwiches for Halloween. As a mom, I have broken the bank every year providing properly festive holidays with tinsel, bows, and plenty of candy-land colored lights to accompany the best-gifts-ever. Why this grinchyness now?
I’d like to say, “it’s the economy, stupid,” but it’s more than that. I’m just stuffed with stuff. Bling, blang, blung, we’ve been exposed to excess for so long, that the gift of a fresh orange and a peppermint stick Mr. Edwards forded a raging river to deliver to Laura Ingalls is now an every day nothing, a garnish. My family says let’s draw for names, my church says let’s do alternate giving, and the stores all play Nearer My God to Thee as they lower the prices on their remaining stock down into the freezing depths. I grumble, and put off the inevitable.
Then, a voice in the wilderness comes through. A friend emails: “Roy Bount, Jr. says 'Give books for Christmas." Give books! Mount a book-buying splurge. This idea speaks to me. My inner Cindy Lou finds her voice, throws that drink of water in the Grinch’s face, and up the chimney he goes. I start thinking of all the time we’ll have for reading now that skiing is out this winter , and reading just seems down right cozy. Giving books is even more Christmas-classic than Old Blue Eyes.
I pull my head out of the anti-giving funk it has been in since Black Friday, and I begin to notice that this idea of giving books is everywhere. Rob Neufeld in the Asheville Citizen Times says that like George Bailey we can escape the reality of our bleak times…not by jumping off a bridge, but by giving books. Do you hear the bell ring?
I think about how easy it is to wrap a book perfectly, pulling bright paper so tautly under the book’s cover. I think about how fun it is to give a beloved volume to a friend or a child. And I think about giving books about giving. Jana Mullins’s beautiful collection, Open Hands shares heartwarming true stories about people who have been affected by the kindness of others . Even the Dalai Lama has written a book about the joys of giving. Deepak Chopra says that “to receive love, we must give it…the reciprocal action keeps the flow of love alive. Does that sound like an economic stimulus package, or a formula for holiday happiness? I’ll vote for the latter.
So, if my ability to celebrate the season in a flurry of lavish gifts has been diminished, I will take heart. There’s hope this season. I’m heading down from Mount Crumpit to buy books—to stimulate my mind, to stimulate the economy, and most importantly, to stimulate the circle of giving. Let’s carve the roast beast!
