by Wendee Mason

Just a few more shopping days until Christmas. They keep reminding me of that over the radio, on T.V. and in the newspapers. I refuse to panic.

I panicked last year. It was awful. Never again, not me. O.K., maybe I'll panic again just a little. The problem is my Mother. She is the hardest person to shop for.

I can remember, when I was a little girl, it was hard to buy her something then too. One year I bought her a carved wooden bowl with nut cracking accessories. I found it on sale, half price in a hardware store going out of business. Apparently, I thought it was just what she needed. She acted excited as she unwrapped my nut cracking gift, and actually left it out and filled with nuts. She would pull it out each holiday season. It just dawned on me this year, what an impersonal gift that was for such a great Mom.

A few years later, I thought I'd sew her a bathrobe. I found the thickest fake fur, dark blue and brown stripes, to sew into a full length robe. Being the procrastinator I was, I didn't start the project until two days before Christmas. This material was as thick as a carpet and it broke a dozen sewing machine needles. On Christmas eve, I was hiding in the walk-in closet, forbidding Mom to enter, putting on the finishing touches, like sleeves and a collar. At midnight, my ten pound masterpiece was done. It was so heavy and bulky, I couldn't find a box in which to place it.

Boy was Mom surprised when she tried on the polar bear overcoat. She wore it only for a few moments. Even though it was freezing outside, it was too hot to wear, and she couldn't move in it. Last year, I was cleaning out her garage, and the furry monster was the only item hanging in the wardrobe storage unit. After wearing it only a couple times, Mom finally gave it away after 22 years.

Well, you'd think I'd learn from these mistakes, wouldn't you? Me too. But I still have a hard time buying her something. Yesterday I made a list of things she uses everyday that she may need. These are not romantic or luxury items, but in these times we need to get back to basics. My list included: a roll of stamps, $100 gift certificate to Safeway, a telephone bill certificate, a gift certificate to where she gets her hair done, vitamins, and a house payment (I'd like to receive this gift if anyone cares).

Cash would be good too. Everyone could use cash. I was raised never to give cash as a gift. Mom said that it was an impersonal gift. "There is no thought that goes into a cash gift. Besides, the recipient would know how much you've spent," Mom would lecture. Well, all that might be true, but I personally think cash is a great gift. It always fits, I never have to return it, and I can always use it. Cash never goes out of style, it's the right color and if I get enough of it, I can trade it for something I've been really wanting. Yes, I think cash for Christmas is a splendid idea.

My husband's family thinks cash is the ultimate gift. He has five brothers and sisters, each one married with and average of 2.3 kids. For the last six years, we have drawn names to see for whom each person will buy a gift. To be polite, when we get our names, each of us calls the other to see what they would like for Christmas. After years of GUESSING, and being disappointed when we guessed wrong, it is now much easier to give what they want. Last year, everyone wanted cash. We have a fifty dollar limit.

Christmas morning was amazing. We each handed the other a Christmas card with $50.00 in it. There was no wrapping paper to pick up, or bows to save. Although we all went out the next day to spend our money at the after Christmas sale, there definitely was something missing. Maybe my Mother was right after all.

Why is it when I do my Christmas shopping, I can't find the perfect gifts for my friends, but I can find DOZENS of perfect gifts for myself? When I break down and buy myself a Christmas gift, the guilt monster looms above me, reminding me about my budget and how I should concentrate on others first."BUT I WANT IT, I NEED IT, I HAVE TO HAVE IT NOW OR I'LL DIE!", I respond. A day later, a friend asks me what I would like for Christmas, and do you know that I can't think of a single thing! "Oh, Johane, I really don't need anything, why don't we just spend some time together over the holidays and that will be my gift!" Did I just say that?

This year, I'm going to Ala Moana Shopping Center with no money, just paper and a pen. I'm going to spend a couple of hours and walk through the mall and write down everything that I HAVE TO HAVE NOW. If I'm lucky enough to have someone ask me what I want for Christmas, I can whip out my wish list of the item, where it is located, the size, color, manufacturer, and price.

There's not a more unpleasant feeling in the world than to know I spent time and money to buy a gift for someone, and I know they didn't like it. It embarrasses me so much, I want to die inside. Unfortunately, this has happened to me more than once. I know deep in my heart they may not like it, but because the price was good, or it was on sale, or it was the last one left, I grabbed it and talked myself into thinking they would love it too if they knew how little it cost. After years of doing this, I've decided life is too short to be embarrassed this way again, even if "the price is right".

I have received all of these things too and I didn't like it at all. "How cheap", I would say to myself. "Aren't I worth a good gift? I spent way too much on that person." I once received a wok with a big dent on the bottom, a sweater with a hole in it that was repaired, a book that was previously read, and a very cheap water pitcher whose box was so tattered, I was sure they found it on the bottom of the closet.

My least favorite gift is the recycled gift. That's the one that you receive, hate, put away and give to someone else the following year, and sometimes the same year. I can always tell when I've received a recycled gift, because there is a natural reaction to not want to rip the wrapping paper, smile profusely, change the subject and eat something.

I have found in the past, when opening gifts, it's important not to get too excited about the picture on the box. One year I received a gift with a blender on the box, but a porcelain doll on the inside. I would have preferred the blender. The worst part was, the giver was watching me open the gift and saw how excited and grateful I was to receive the blender. Her face turned red when I saw the doll. Perhaps it was on sale, or recycled.

Some families celebrate on Christmas eve, but my family was a Christmas day family. When we were little, we'd wake up at six in the morning, go into our parent's room, wake them up and run down stairs to see what Santa left us. Little did I know, the folks were up until three in the morning wrapping and placing the gifts under the tree.

It was a very exciting time to be a child at Christmas. I was pretty sheltered, so I believed in Santa until I was ten. It was the best ten years of my life. The truth was discovered, when one Christmas eve, Mom and Dad were testing my new Chatty Cathy (a high priority item on my gift letter to Santa). They pulled her ring that was attached to her back over and over. It woke me up. "Do you want to play with me today?" was heard echoing down the hall. I took a peek, and there were Mom and Dad playing with my Chatty Cathy around the Christmas tree. I was pretty smart, and had started to have doubts about this Santa fellow, and this scene reconfirmed my beliefs. There is no Santa. Shucks.

One of the most outstanding Christmas' I had was when my parents were not getting along. My Mom flew us to Dallas to be with her sister for Christmas. On Christmas morning my sister and I woke up to two shiny Schwinn Bicycles! And we got two Schwinn unicycles too! It wasn't snowing in Dallas, so we rode around the neighborhood in our pajamas all morning. When we got back home to New York, to our amazement, there were TWO MORE 10 speed bikes and TWO MORE unicycles waiting for us under the tree! We were in heaven! Apparently, Mom and Dad needed to talk more often. We had to return Dad's bikes and unicycles. It broke my heart. Santa was an Indian giver.

The trouble with growing older is the excitement of the holiday is replaced by the pressure of the holiday. Holidays don't mean the same to me. I tend to take a more pessimistic approach. It means I have to send out hundreds of Christmas cards. It costs a lot of money to send out hundreds of cards. Years ago, I would personally write a little letter in each card to catch up everyone in the details of my life. That's fine when you only send out a couple dozen cards. Ten years ago, I started to write a generic letter, photocopied it, and inserted it in my card. My mother was always insulted when she received one of these letters from anyone, especially me. One year I sent out my requirements of what I wanted in a man, hoping someone I knew would set me up with a date. This year, Mom has announced that she, too, is going to write a generic letter. "There just isn't enough time in the day to write to all my old friends," she announced. Is this MY mother talking?

I'd much rather get a generic letter than to receive an already imprinted card that say "The Jetsons". Why bother, if you're not going to tell me anything? Take me off your list and save the 29 cents, and I'll take you off mine. Now that's the Christmas spirit!

Once I sent out four hundred Christmas letters by bulk mail. Nobody said anything, but I felt so tacky doing it. But I saved enough money to buy myself a gift.

I wouldn't feel so much holiday pressure if the stores didn't advertise for Christmas before Halloween. I know sales are down, but if they keep this up, the fourth of July celebration store displays will have Christmas trees in them. Let's get real. Christmas should be advertised after Thanksgiving, just like when I was growing up. The manufacturers have pushed the public so much, I feel like rebelling and not buying anything. We need to get the true Christmas spirit back.

The Holiday spirit is special. It's people reaching out to others. Family members to family members, friends to friends and it also is a time to reach out to strangers. A stranger is just a friend you haven't yet met. It's the sharing of love and experiences. It's the unconditional acceptance of each other. It's knowing you're O.K., even though we might not agree on everything. It's a time to reunite. It's a time to hug and kiss, and to laugh and cry together. As the years go on, I've noticed a reluctance among the people I know to really share who they are with others. As we lose touch with our inner feelings and the ability to share with others, we lose the precious moments that make life worth living.

I'm going to concentrate this holiday season on making a difference in other people's lives. As the telephone company says "reach out and touch someone!" I'm going to make more personal phone calls to my family and friends on the mainland. I am going to spend more time with those I care about who live here. I am going to invite more people over to dinner to share stories and laughs. I am going to see if somehow, I can make their life richer and more pleasant.

It is said, what you give out, you receive ten fold. My life will have more meaning and purpose if I give of myself. It has nothing to do with material gifts. My wish for everyone is to give gifts of love. That's one gift worth recycling.