Moving toward Christmas — beyond ourselves

By Kay Collier McLaughlin

The Twigbee Shop was a pre-Christmas tradition tucked away in a corner of the elegant old Higbee’s department store in downtown Cleveland.  Eager young shoppers were escorted from car or Rapid Transit to the gilded entryway by their parents, who watched their children scamper through a child-sized door to meet the young helper who would guide them in their holiday shopping.  Rumor – or the memory of former young shoppers – tells of low tables filled with the kind of gifts that every mom, dad, brother, sister or grandparent might need or enjoy — all bearing price tags of $1 - $10.  Happy customers were returned to their adults carrying miniature Twigbee shopping bags filled with gift-wrapped treasures, and a sense that they had participated in the magic of choosing a special gift for someone they love.

Someone who remembered the Twigbee shop offered a similar opportunity to Cleveland youngsters in the new Cathedral Commons Ten Thousand Villages shop on the first weekend in December this year.  We missed the main event, but with another generation’s young shopper in tow, headed downtown in Cleveland on a wet, cold December Monday in pursuit of that magic called giving.

The last time I visited the Twigbee Shop, I could only glimpse the magic inside through the pint-sized door as it opened and closed for my young shoppers.  On this day-after the actual event,  grown-ups got to walk through the door, too.

Garlands made of straw, cloth, paper and more cascaded over the entrance walls, interspersed by colorful Advent calendars.  Creches and angels from Peru, Haiti, Bangladesh and the Holy Land filled the center of the room, surrounded by angels from Vietnam and stars from more countries than I can name.    All around us, and overhead as well,  handcrafted Christmas ornaments told of holiday traditions both amazingly the same as our own, and artistically representative of other cultures.  And that was just the holiday merchandise!

Throughout the shop, beautifully handcrafted pottery, carvings, sculpture, textiles, soaps, musical instruments, cards, toys and more filled every nook and cranny.  Our youngster moved, entranced, from display to display, finding more than enough gifts she loved for those people she loves. As did the adults!

Along the way we heard the story of Ten Thousand Villages – a cooperative venture that underwrites the work of artisans in 31 Third World countries, in order that they might become self-sufficient.  Every penny that is spent in the Ten Thousand Villages shop is returned to the countries to develop the economy.

Outside the Cathedral windows, the afternoon light faded, and the rains poured down on the workers who scurried now from their jobs toward home. Inside, it was the kind of warm that comes with feeling completely good, from the inside out.

It felt as though we were truly moving toward Christmas – a Christmas far beyond ourselves, in places we had never been before, and might never ever be.  It felt as though someone had Christmas in their hearts all year, every year, and made it possible for me to be a part of that kind of celebration.

The kind of celebration that changes lives.

A tiny blue and white Vietnamese angel, and a brightly colored Haitian angel will join my angel tree this year – and the story of Ten Thousand Villages will be tucked into a number of packages.  More importantly, however, I move through the remainder of this Advent with a heightened sense that as I follow the light toward the stable, and the baby who would be the Saviour of the World, I move in the company of brothers and sisters far beyond myself.

Brothers and sisters He came to save.

Brothers and sisters He came to love.