A white envelope &

4 sleeps to Christmas!

My kids are sooo excited! We have a house full of family visiting from Australia and we have friends coming for Christmas dinner too. It is going to be full, noisy, fun and wonderful and I can’t wait either!

I did want to share this story that showed up in my Facebook feed today.

It was like it was divinely delivered, as we have been looking for a way to show our kids that Christmas is a time for giving, to truly understand that we are extremely fortunate while others are not, and that making people happy gives as much, if not more,  joy as opening presents.

It is a story about a lady who chose a different gift for her husband, who hated the commercialism of Christmas, and the joy this gesture brought to him for many years.

It is also a story of honouring a loved one.

The lady’s name was Nancy W. Gavin and it was about her husband, Mike.

It was posted by Gabriel Lo. You can follow him here:


Read it here:

The “WHITE ENVELOPE” is brilliant! I’ve adopted this as my family Christmas tradition since 2013… The question is will you? Gabriel Lo.

Christmas Story:
For the Man Who Hated Christmas
By Nancy W. Gavin

It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas. Oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it – overspending and the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma – the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was on the wrestling team at the school he attended. Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.

Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.” Mike loved kids – all kids. He so enjoyed coaching little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came.

That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes, and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed a small, white envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done, and that this was his gift from me.

Mike’s smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year. And that same bright smile lit up succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition – one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The white envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children – ignoring their new toys – would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the small, white envelope never lost its allure.

The story doesn’t end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree. And the next morning, I found it was magically joined by three more. Unbeknownst to the others, each of our three children had for the first time placed a white envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down that special envelope.

Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us.

I would love to hear about your experience after you’ve done your envelope! ❤

Wow, what a way to truly show love for someone by understanding what is important to them.

This is my last post for 2015 and a great way to end the year, I think!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year fellow Franchise Parentpreneurs!

See you in 2016, all refreshed and ready for an amazing year!

With much love from my family to yours,

Ted xo