Which would you rather have for Christmas: the latest piece of consumer electronics or a jar of homemade jam? Would you rather meet some media celebrity or spend time with someone in prison?

At first blush our tendency probably favors the shiny and entertaining, but with further reflection our appreciation grows for the personal and relational. The meaning of Christmas gradually calls us beyond the glitz and glitter of the marketplace to the warmth and wonderment of the manger.

In Appalachia my friend Anthony for years set a limit of $300 for Christmas gifts, half to be given to social organizations to help others. Weekends in Advent found him and his two children in the kitchen baking breads, confecting candies and pastas, or blending salsas and granola.

Much of the produce came from the family garden via the freezer allowing the kids bragging rights as they handed the family gift to an aunt or friend. Each year the fragrance of the Christmas spirit wafts from Anthony’s kitchen as he and his family prepare personal gifts for friends.

In Mississippi Jerry Woods, a Glenmary pastoral associate, and Glenmary Father Tim Murphy travel five hours round trip each month to the state penitentiary at Parchman.

“You got to love these guys even when they’re screwed up and don’t know it,” reflects Jerry, a no-nonsense Navy veteran and father of five.

Tight security forbids any outside gifts like toothpaste or shampoo, so at Christmastime their gift becomes an ear that listens to the loneliness, a heart that remembers the forgotten and hands that hold other hands in prayer. Their present is the gift of presence.

Newspapers never advertise these gifts and malls have no room to store them. The Spirit motivating the heart promotes these alternative ways of celebrating the miracle of Bethlehem.