our van’s power steering failed on the road, leaving
us stranded and in shock. We ended up having to
push the car into a parking lot. Since their phone
batteries had died, my parents couldn’t call a towing
service, either. To heap insult upon injury, we had no
way to get home except to walk (and how many of us
wanted to walk almost ten miles?).
Fortunately, though, a kind stranger miraculously
stepped in by hiring a snow vehicle to return us
home safely. The family van, alas, was left behind
in that parking lot. Now I realized my family would
have to live through Christmas without the car
(gasp!)—until it could be retrieved and repaired.
Enter simplicity.
Frustrated and determined to fix matters, we started
wishing and, yes, even praying for the snow to melt.
I prayed especially hard,
Please, God, make the snow
go away so my parents can buy us presents this year.
The realization of not having a “normal holiday”
nearly drove me to panic.
December 24th arrived at last, yet the stubborn
snow still refused to release its claim on our town.
Between this fact and three sporadic power failures
that occurred throughout that week, I was virtually
fit to be tied due to these inconveniences. Because
we couldn’t go grocery shopping, my mom decided
to scrape together a substitute Christmas feast using
leftover ground turkey, bell peppers, and sweet
potatoes.
Given that I was already famished and frustrated,
I had little energy left to voice my protest against
the entrée. Despite my distaste, however, I had to
admit that such a simple meal spared me and my
sisters the tedious duty of cleaning a mountain of
cookware.
Maybe there is a little advantage in a basic
lifestyle
, I reconsidered begrudgingly.
Though I would have preferred to spend the evening
writing Santa an extensive wish list, I chose to
read my siblings Christmas stories by the fireplace
instead; I knew they were suffering as much of a
culture shock as I was. I ended up enjoying my time
with them so much that I almost forgot there were
six inches of snow outside, no car in the driveway,
and no treats or excess gifts in the house. Because
the snowstorm forced us to rely on our present
supplies, I was slowly learning to sacrifice a typical
Americanized holiday laden with commercialism
and accumulation.
In striking contrast to millions of American
households, our own home boasted very few
decorations and a scant stock of presents
underneath the Christmas tree that year. As time
progressed, I began regarding our situation as more
of a blessing than a curse because, after all, wasn’t
Jesus born in a small cave and wrapped in a manger?
If He could accept meager provisions, so could I. My
prayers began shifting from self-centered begging
to more peaceful gratitude for what we did have to
share with each other.
In retrospect, I can now confidently say that I have
heartily embraced the Christian view of simple living
during the holidays. As I matured, my attention
shifted from how many presents there were under
the tree to how many blessings there were to be
thankful for. This just goes to show that the best
gifts in life are those that cannot be seen, and it
takes a special heart to understand that simplicity is
the greatest of them all.
Moreover, for those of you who may still be left
wondering, the word “simple” does not necessarily
equal “stark poverty” or “rigorous asceticism”. There
can be and there are benefits from being simple
which I‘ve gained over the years: less temptation
to material attachment, appreciation for the bare
necessities, and time for contemplating the selfless
birth of Christ.
Talk about a three-in-one bargain!
Marie Valdovinos
is a Seton senior with 5 younger siblings.
She has practiced creative writing for almost 12 years. Her
other great hobbies include sketching, singing, and reading
anything written by Tolkien and Dickens, her literary role
models. She owes all her writing skills and current success in
school to Seton’s rigorous yet rewarding English curriculum.
One of her biggest goals is to be a published author.
8
BAYLEY BULLETIN, DEC-FEB 2016