Needs and wants

THE wee boy was kneeling before the crib, looking at Mary, Joseph and the baby. Awestruck though he was, he knew what he wanted above all for Christmas – a new bike. He decided to write a note to Jesus.

“Dear Jesus,” he wrote in big, deliberate letters, “if you give me a new bike, I’ll be good for a whole week.”

After he’d written this momentous promise, he began to think about it. Good for a whole week? Really?

He realised that there was no way he could keep his vow. So he scored out his promise, and took out his felt pen again.

“Dear Jesus, if you give me a new bike, I’ll be good for a whole day.”

A whole day! As before, realism overtook him. He knew that he wouldn’t manage to be good for a day.

A clever plan formed in his mind. He put his hand into the crib, pulled out the figure of Mary, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then scoring out the second promise, he wrote in dark, threatening print, “Look, Jesus, if you want to see your mother again…”

This story was told me by a Roman Catholic priest in Orkney. We’ve all been there as kids, have we not? And Christmas is really all about children.

Or is it? Sir David Frost tells how he was entering a hotel in America at Christmas time when he ran into a man who was loaded down with bottles of whisky and wine.

When Frost commented that Christmas was hard work, the American replied: “Yep, we’d never do it if it wasn’t for the kids!”

These same kids can be both innocent and blackmailing. Their strategies are often creative, as well as wearing.

Another lad wanted a new bike. He said his prayers in front of his mother and his granny, speaking quietly until he suddenly shouted: “And please, God, send me a new bike!” “Hush, Tom,” said his mother, “God isn’t deaf.” “No, but granny is,” he replied. He knew who Santa Claus was in that house. A question we should ask ourselves at Christmas time is this: what is it we really need? This is different from a wish-list of things we want.

When Lord Franks was British ambassador in Washington, he was phoned by a reporter from the Washington Post, who said he was writing a story about what celebrities wanted for Christmas. Lord Franks replied that he was very partial to crystallised fruits. Next morning, he was aghast to read that the Russian ambassador wanted world peace, Israel’s ambassador wanted peace in Jerusalem, and the British ambassador wanted a box of crystallised fruits…

If you were asked what you wanted for Christmas, you would probably suggest a mixture of simple and complicated things – a pair of socks and world peace, a new dress and a fancy electric drill, and recovery from illness of a loved one, a box of smarties and an end to world hunger.

The most important things in life are things that you cannot buy. Like health. Good relationships. The recovery of others. There come times in your life when you’re up against it, and you realise what really counts.

The coronavirus we have been – and still are – living through has highlighted the difference between wants and needs. The festival of Christmas can do the same.

Despite all its strains and stresses and its heavy commercialism, Christmas is still a magical time. It makes children of us all. At its heart is the story of a child born in a stable, born not just to bring a message of love but to be a message of love.

Yes, shedding a tear at the Nativity play while the children sing Away in a manger – even while Joseph is trading punches with an angel with gorgeous wings – is a sentimental thing. But it’s more than that. It’s a time when something of the eternal can slip in under our defences and whisper a word of immortal love.

May Christmas bring you what you need – which may, or may not, coincide with what you want. ¤