Greg Moffatt, Ph.D

I watched from the back of the auditorium as the program unfolded on stage. Over 600 people watched as the performers, both adults and children, sang traditional Christmas songs and moved in smoothly choreographed steps.

The program was good, but I had one real interest - my son. He is only 8 years old and probably not the best performer on stage, but my chest swelled as I watched him. I was so proud. His eyes met mine even though I was in the back of the room and his hand rose slightly at his side as he tried to wave at me without being too obvious. The grin on my face was so broad it almost hurt.

That same feeling of pride recurred just days later as I watched my 13-year-old daughter perform a winter concert with her orchestra. I'm sure nearly every parent and grandparent in the room at each of these events felt just like me. We are proud of what our children are doing, but that is only a part of our experience. We not only see our children as they are, but also as we hope them to be.

At eight, my son can be anything. He could be a doctor, banker, teacher, or maybe even a psychologist like me. His future is wide open and my hopes are high. It is a time like this that I realize how much I want to give my children everything they need to have a happy life.

But I can't give them happiness. Despite all my efforts my children still complain on occasion and they think their lives are unbearable. They don't realize that the things that really make life satisfying are things that only we can give to ourselves.

When my wife asks me what I want for Christmas, I always say, "World peace." That would make me happy. Otherwise, I tell her, I don't have any real wants.

But the truth is, I really do want something. However, what I want for Christmas isn't something anyone can buy for me. It is something that only I can deliver. Here is what I want.
I want my children to be happy, but I don't want their lives to be easy. I want their needs to be met and I want them to have the things that they want, but I want them to work hard for those things. I want them to have a good education, but I don't want it to be too easy for them. I would like them to marry and have children, but I want them to experience the pain of relationships. It is through these difficulties that they will appreciate what they earn and it is through their pain and testing that they will grow strong. Their difficulties and pains will also teach them compassion.

I want to be a good father and I am willing to give up my time, money, energy, personal interests, and even career advancement to become one. I want to be a good husband and I am willing to put up with irritations, personality conflicts, and disappointments to make sure my wife is always glad that she married me. I want to be an example to my children so that they can look at the way I handle stress, frustration, hardship, and pain and they can learn how to deal with these things themselves. They will then become good examples for my grandchildren.

I wish for a day when my weaknesses won't be so apparent and my failings will be less noticeable, yet I don't want anyone, especially my children, to think I don't fail. We all do and it is not our failures that define us, rather it is the way we face them and how we try to grow beyond them.

How can I package these things under the Christmas tree? The wishes I have for Christmas are only things that I can create in myself and give to others.

My son already gave me a great Christmas present through his program, as did my daughter. The wave from my son said, "I'm proud of you, Dad. Am I doing OK?"

Maybe if I can achieve the things in my wish list, my children will always know how proud I am of them and that they are, without question, just fine the way they are. World peace might then be one step closer.

login to post comments