It all comes down to this . . .

We had a beautiful Christmas. It was just white enough, just cold enough, and had just enough family, friends and food to make it just right. David and I looked for meaningful ways to balance the commercialism with the meaning behind the holiday, and we tried hard to not spoil the children. We baked cookies, made gingerbread houses, went to parties, participated in service projects, and even put some lights up outside this year. We also held our annual "shepherd's dinner" in which we dressed in robes and ate flatbread and fish (among other things) with our fingers out of tin pans while sitting on the floor around a fire. We had a good time.

In all seriousness, I am certain that the kids will not remember any significant amount of it . . . with one exception: THE MONEY GRAB. Grandpa Hale has created a tradition that stands alone. It is talked about all year long among the cousins, and they share with each other their best tips and strategies as well as their excitement about trying again next year. The money grab is this: Grandpa first offers each grandchild the opportunity to choose $1 per year of their age OR the chance to get two fistfuls of coins out of a vase. (Nobody chooses the dollars for your age thing.) Then, each grandchild in turn gets a chance to fill their fist with money--the trick is that if your fist is too full, the fist won't be able to exit the vase! Also, if the coins are piled too high then they will spill onto the floor and do not count toward the total winnings.

Personally, I hated the money grab from its very beginning over 5 years ago. All due respect to grandpa and the kiddos, but it is awfully worldly for a holiday so sacred. Over time, however, I've warmed up to it. When I stop analyzing it I can see that it is just plain fun. It is a great memory that our kids will have forever of their Grandpa. Besides, who can argue that it is impersonal? We have a great time playing, joking, and encouraging the little greedy grabbers as they line up for their turns at the shiny, money-filled vessel. It is definitely a step above a greenback stamped with Lincoln's image and stuffed into a card!

I've gotten over my worry that the tradition will ruin their lives and turn my children into money-hungry fiends. You know the old adage from Freud: sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar. That's it. Now sometimes I wish I was one of Grandpa's kids and could have my chance at the game.