When I was younger, I thought making Christmas special meant doing more.

I don’t think that anymore.

I think children remember how a home felt. 

They remember being allowed to help decorate. They remember someone getting down on the floor to play with them. They remember the traditions that returned each year and the adults who were interested in whatever they were interested in at that particular age.

My work with women later in life has made me protective of time, because once you understand its value, you become more careful about what you exchange it for.

And grandchildren have a particularly unfair way of demonstrating how quickly it passes.

You put a one-year-old felt tree on the wall.

Then somehow you’re taking it out of the cupboard again and the little person who once needed help placing every ornament can reach the star.

So yes, I’ll still put presents under the tree.

But these days, I choose them differently.

I look for toys that leave room for children to think, move, discover, and become a little more capable in their own time. I look for things we can share without requiring me to direct every second of the experience.

Because the toy will eventually be outgrown.

The time you spent together while they were growing into it is the part you get to keep.