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The greatest gift that can be given

A story of how I found my true meaning of Christmas.
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Take a moment to reflect on what is really the true gift and meaning of Christmas to you.

Thirteen years ago, the meaning of Christmas drastically changed for me personally. I packed up as much as I could for myself and three young children and walked away from a toxic and mentally abusive marriage. I found myself hiding out in a motel with three sick babies at the beginning of December, praying daily for a place to open up at the Saskatoon Interval Home.

Once we got placed in the interval home, an overwhelming sense of safety washed over me. I met other mothers with young children who were also escaping unhealthy relationships and the amount of donations the home receives at that time of year is unbelievable. All sorts of items were being dropped off throughout the days we were there from organizations and individuals.

The 14 days I was there is honestly a blur to me now. I had connected with a counsellor who worked the night shifts only. I would go to sleep when I put my kids to bed, set an alarm to wake me up around midnight, go back downstairs where she and I would work on gaining some self confidence back. We would discuss everything and do exercises until 5 a.m. when I would go back to sleep for a couple of hours before the kids woke up.

I had made plans to leave on Dec. 22, making my way back to Unity to stay a few days at my grandma’s house. Before leaving the interval home, the staff told me to go pick out items that my children or I could use in the future. Now I was raised to only take what you need, never more. And that was hard for me as the staff members kept telling me to take more clothing, toys and personal care items. Each one of my kids and myself had close to a garbage bag full of items given to us for the holidays and even into the future.

On top of all the items I had received for my family, gift cards were given to me by service clubs to fuel up my vehicle, along with a Walmart gift cards to purchase any last-minute items I would need. I knew that I would never be able to repay the Saskatoon Interval Home or the service clubs back what they did for myself and my children that year. However, I feel that I have been able to bring the awareness of those groups and all the good that they do. Not just at Christmas, but year-round.

That year on Christmas morning, I was surrounded by my children, parents, grandma and uncle, who was wonderful enough to dress up as Santa that morning for my boys. He pulled out the gifts I had already bought prior to leaving from a big bag, while I got to watch the wide-eyed boys squealing at each item being pulled out. I seldom cry when it comes to gifts, but my mom was able to pull it off. She had made placemats with each boys’ handprint and footprint fashioned to look like moose.

Every year, my kids and I celebrate breaking away. I never thought for once I would be able to do it all on my own. And for the most part I have, with some assistance from my family and friends. I have been fortunate to not only put myself through post-secondary education after my separation but was able to find employment that worked for me for many years. As we have grown older, we have also had to make changes and sacrifices to accommodate life.

To repay the service clubs and the Saskatoon Interval Home, I have had opportunities over the years to donate. I always make sure to put a little more in the donation baskets or buy an extra raffle ticket. I was able to donate a small child’s quilt that I had sewn to a family that was also using the home as a safe refuge. Being able to help those who helped you at your lowest has truly been the greatest gift I have ever experienced.

This past year was particularly difficult for me. I found myself between a rock and hard place. I had to make some difficult choices that affected our home for a while, but felt they were necessary. Now that my runaway train of life has been put back on its rails, those changes were what we needed. Our home has started to come together again, showing me that when all else fails, it’s family that counts the most.

Over the years since I made that difficult choice in 2010, it’s clear to me that it’s not what is under the tree that gets me excited for the holidays. The simple fact that I get to spend time with my family, the ones I love, is what matters the most. Even though my children were quite young when life changed for us, all they have ever known is love. When those placemats make their way to the table, they are a reminder to us all of what we have all survived over the years, even the recent ones.