December

December is the month of giving: we open the doors of our homes and hearts to our friends and families and we break bread togehter. We give away our precious time and go to parties, posadas and Christmas gatherings. We help the man who begs on a street corner, in the cold, or give to the acolyte when he hands us the alms basket at church. Sometimes we pay bonuses. We hand out gifts. The month of December is a month that invites us to practice the virtue of generosity.

I have not met anyone more generous than my grandmother, Feli. She loved giving gifts, especially to us, her grandchildren. She had too many children (ten who made it to adulthood) and as result, many grandchildren. But I would like to think that I held a special place in her big heart. My mother was her eldest child and when she passed away on december seventeen, long ago, my grandmother took me to Mexico City to live with her and my grandfather, Manuel. I was barely three years old. She poured her love onto me and spoiled me as only grandmothers know how. She bought me whatever I asked for: toy clay pots in the market, cut-out dolls at the corner store and in the parks, ice creams, balloons and lollipops. Whenever my sisters came to visit from Veracruz, she would take us everywhere: to the Bosque de Chapultepec, to the candy store, to the cinema, to Xochimilco. She was not only generous but also she was tireless. She had more energy than we did! She knew the city like the back of her palm and loved to explore it. She never learned to drive but that didn't stop her. She knew all the taxi drivers and they also knew her: she was lady who tipped them well.

The only problem was that grandparents weren't rich people and my grandmother spent money like water. I can still hear my grandfather complaining about it; as much as he tried to control his wife’s excessive splendor, he could not. The fact is that he, himself, was also a generous man, maybe even more than his wife, now that I think about it. My grandfather Manuel was the kind of man who would take the shirt off his back to help others, but that would have to be the subject of another novel. Perhaps that is why anytime whenever my grandmother sneaked into his room to pull bills from his wallet, while he took his nap, he would pretend to be sleeping. At some point I became an accomplice and I too had to tiptoe my way to his wallet and commit the ‘crime’. I was not afraid that my grandfather would wake up (which happened once and he just winked at me, smiling). I was terrified of his dentures floating inside a glass of water on top of the nightstand.

It was innevitable that my grandparents would conceive generous children, just like them. Uncle Domingo was the worst, but he, unlike his parents, decided from a very young age, that money would not be an obstacle to his giving nature. Thus resolved, he set about generating his fortune, which he shared whenever he wanted, with whoever he wanted. His mother was the first beneficiary of his abundance. It was only fair for in this life we receive in the same measure as we give. At least I think so. Thanks to her successful, loving son, my grandmother was able to continue spoiling her grandchildren at ease, until the end of her days.

This is not a normal December: this is a pandemic December. I know. It is not easy to be generous. There is much need. So much pain. Many families who have lost a loved one. It is hard to give when life takes away what we hold most dear. But when I think of my grandparents, I think of that sad Christmas, seven days after my mother died and I can see them giving even more than ever. And to me they gave me the most precious gift of all, the one I needed the most: their love. Generous hearts, like theirs, will find a way to share with or without money.

This pandemic year we may not be able to open our arms or the doors of our homes to the people we love. We may not be able to enjoy posadas, Christmas bonuses or gifts. But we can open our hearts and give away, by the handful, love. We need it more than ever. For me, I shall give thanks for all the blessing received: the grandparents who loved me, and grandchildren I get to spoil, even if their parents frown on it.