Ponying Up at Christmas

It was the last hour of the last day before Christmas vacation, and I was the last kid standing. It was my turn to tell all my first grade buddies what was coming my way on Christmas day.

I felt ready for this now, even though I had some hard acts to follow. Apparently Santa was going to spend a big chunk of his time Christmas morning delivering goods to my little town, mostly to my three best friends.

Richard would be rocketing past his pals on a sleek new racing sled in a few days. When he tired of that, he’d don his new ice skates and do circles around us all—backwards, in fact. When the weather broke he’d be flaunting a new bat, baseball, and outfielder’s glove.

We all thought Richard was done, but he was merely taking a breath. Now he would reveal the “wow” gifts: a line-controlled gas-powered airplane and a Daisy Red Ryder BB gun!

The last two gifts bumped things up to a whole new level. Model gas stations and cars, cap pistols and cowboy hats, or even a scooter or pogo stick would sound weak. I began to realize how Christmas-deficient I would be.

In spite of the winter winds that whistled around the huge windows in my classroom, beads of perspiration began to form on my face. I slouched a little in my oversized desk, hoping Bruce and Chris would take up the rest of the time.

Bruce practically floated to the front. He was getting a trampoline! While he was bouncing, he’d be listening to his new Cloud Gray Regency TR-1 Transistor Radio. He said he chose that color to match his jumping altitude. (This kid was good.) And after a few hours of acrobatics, he’d bounce directly onto his Sears J.C. Higgins Colorflow bicycle, the one with the batwing headlight and the twin exhaust jet-style rear carrier. He explained he’d have to coast, though, till he could reach the pedals.

If I slouched any more I’d be on the floor. But while Chris was walking up, an idea came out of nowhere. The best ever! I resurfaced, hoping Chris would hurry. In five minutes the bell would ring.

I wasn’t doing much listening, but I did hear Chris mention a Cushman scooter and a .22 Remington rifle. He told us his mom wouldn’t allow him to carry the rifle on the scooter since he was only six. I didn’t see the problem. Anyway, it was my turn now.

I strolled past my friends on the way up to the now-revered spot beside Miss Jones’s desk. I turned to the class and couldn’t help but crack a smile. I was about to reveal the most amazing gift in the whole school, let alone the first grade.

Santa was bringing me a pony.

Yes, Dad would soon be clearing out space for a pasture with his John Deere caterpillar (Dad did have a caterpillar), build a barn, and even buy me a Hopalong Cassidy saddle with silver stirrups. So much for your fully-loaded bike, Bruce. My smile morphed into a smirk as the bell announced Christmas vacation.

Everyone was stunned, even Mrs. Jones. It took her a few seconds to gather her wits. She told us to get our coats and bundle up tightly before we went home. I don’t know about anybody else, but I walked out the door totally believing my own story.

Snow whipped my face as I walked the quarter mile to my house. When I turned into our long driveway, cold reality started to set in, and I don’t mean the weather. Dad‘s John Deere sat parked in its spot, covered with a tarp and a foot of snow. Absolutely no preparations were underway for any kind of Christmas pony. Why had I said that? In the four-legged animal department, I’d be lucky to get a hamster.

 I certainly couldn’t “pony up” up for my first grade Christmas. Like my TV mom Lucy, I would have some serious ’splaining to do. But fortunately, most of my friends’ bragging would fall short as well.

I still give a list to Bonnie, and I am blessed to get a lot of cool things. (Still no pony.) But the excitement always wears off over time. I want something that never disappoints or grows old.

That was taken care of on the first Christmas, for something else I could never pony up—my sin debt. Jesus paid that for me. He came to earth and lived a perfect life, then was crushed and broken to square my spiritual bank account with God forever. I’m living richly on the interest.

Jesus gave the best gift ever. And it’s ours, if we’ll just receive it.