It wasn't my idea to
have a Christmas in July party, but it happened. Imagine. Red house lights blinking
in the heat of the summer. Jingle Bells blaring from the stereo. A lamp
post adorned with mistletoe and topped with a giant red bow...and a Christmas
tree, tinsel and all, sitting in my driveway.
Oh, and did I mention
the reindeer?
I'll get to that later.
I'm not exactly the
social butterfly when it comes to neighborhood stuff. While I appreciate
the occasional Bunko game or Tupperware party, I'm not one to
initiate neighborhood festivities.
Outside of my church
and weekly Saturday morning coffee time with a few girlfriends, my
social life has much to be desired.
When our church
Life Group brought up the idea to have a Christmas in July party to get a
jump start to support a local charity, I wanted to crawl under my
chair.
I really did.
Since I was a group
leader, I felt obligated to smile and say, "What a great idea!"
Inwardly, I was thinking, How will our neighbors know that this is
really going to a charity? What if they think we are con artists hording gifts
for our own children?
And so we booked our
children's pastor, Kelly Welhelmi, to put on a puppet show dressed in her
outrageous character, Rudette, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer's sister. We
printed off over 100 flyers and posted to every house on our
cul-de-sac and surrounding blocks asking neighbors to bring
an unwrapped gift. At the bottom of the flyer in bold face type was: All
gifts will be distributed through our churches' children's outreach.
Well, a
Texas heat wave had hit and my family and our church small group were
sweating bullets the night of the party. We had fans blowing and chilled
lemonade and enough watermelon to feed an army. A few members from our
church small group mingled waiting to be swarmed by neighborhood
children. My front yard was a sight to see with a Christmas tree in the
driveway, house lights, and even mistletoe over the doorway entrance.
We waited.
And waited.
And waited some
more.
Where were my neighbors? I was embarrassed and was secretly
hoping we'd printed the wrong date on the flyer. After forty-five minutes,
my next-door-neighbor walked his nine-year-old daughter over to get a better
look at the lady wearing a brown suit, antlers that dangled tinsel, and a
glittery red nose.
The little girl placed an unwrapped
My Little Pony toy under the Christmas tree and planted herself on our lawn.
I cursed under my
breadth. How could it be that only one child showed up?
And so I gave marching
orders and sent my three children who at the time were, 5, 7, and 10
years, to knock on their friend's doors. I no longer cared about the
gifts, I cared about saving face.
Between door-to-door
invites from my children, and a few phone calls to friends, I counted over
fifty neighbors at our Christmas in July party. We had a watermelon
spitting contest, a grand performance by Rudette, a puppet show, and of course
lots of singing and dancing. Apart from the My Little Pony toy we collected
around fifty dollars. By monetary standards, the party wasn't anything to write
home about.
But something more
important happened that evening. We got to know our neighbors. The couple who
had just adopted a new baby from Korea, the man whose dog barks all night, an
elderly man who is carrying for his wife who suffered from Alzheimer, and we
got to know their names.
Every year
when July rolls around, and the heat hits as only it can in Texas, our
family talks about our Christmas party. We laugh and feel a closeness only we
can feel. Now that I think about it...our party was a hit, after all.
Merry Christmas, even in
July!
