The White Envelope – A Beautiful Christmas Tradition

As we approach the holidays, I wanted to share a beautiful story with you all. The White Envelope, and it’s a much-needed reminder of the true nature of the holidays and family – enjoy.

As told by Nancy W. Gavin

It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas–oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it. He disliked overspending and the frantic running around at the last minute. For example, getting a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma. You would give these gifts in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended. Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters wore sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together. They presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I saw that the other team was wrestling without headgear. It was a kind of light helmet people design to protect a wrestler’s ears. Headgear was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.

Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. As each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado. It was a kind of street pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.”

Mike loved kids – all kids – and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes. I sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.

On Christmas Eve, I left the envelope on the tree. The note inside explained what I had done and that it was his gift from me. His face smiled the biggest with excitement that Christmas and every Christmas after. Christmas eve after that, I kept the tradition going. One we would sent a group of mentally handicapped kids to a hockey game. Another year, a check to a couple of old brothers whose house burned down the week before Christmas. And so on and so forth.

The envelope took center stage in our Christmas. We opened it last on Christmas morning. Our children were stunned by their new toys, they just stood staring inside their wide eyes when their father lifted the envelope from the tree and opened it.

As our children grew up, the toys, too, were replaced by gifts of more practical use, but the envelope was still interesting to them. But it doesn’t stop there.

You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree. In the morning, it was joined by three more.

Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down the envelope.

Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us.

This story first appeared in Woman’s Day Magazine, and was the 1982 winner of the “My Most Moving Holiday Tradition” contest. Beautiful story, Nancy.