Christmas is for Everyone

In my younger years, I worked at Hillcrest Golf Club in St. Paul, Minnesota. Time spent there included several job descriptions but today, we’ll focus on the busboy/server position. A common starter job, this one included more than most. Of course, we carried 6-8 dinners on trays held high over our heads with return trips including used plates, dishes, cups, saucers, and various utensils that always caused problems. These trays must have, (in my mind) weighed a hundred pounds. 

There were several weekends during the summer when we started working at 7 AM on Saturday and returned home just after dinner on Sunday evening, 34 hours later. Making $0.75 per hour was serious money for us! I don’t remember hearing anything about child labor laws or overtime pay in those days, so all is good.

Between serving and bussing, we re-configured table placements for the next-up celebration dinners, lunch buffets, golfing tournament buffet breakfasts, and dance parties. Many parties required colorful draperies with lace table skirts and under-skirt lighting. This was, after all, an upscale, elegant, and expensive, golf club. 

Everything was expected to be perfectly flawless. Always. 

And it was.

The problem arose when I discovered I could no longer enjoy eating at restaurants. I meticulously judged everything from the moment I entered any establishment to my eventual, and arrogantly displeased, exit. 

They were sloppy and dirty. The ambiance left much to be desired. People working there were completely incompetent. The food was improperly prepared and presented. The utensils were spotted and some of the glassware came with lipstick. 

Perfection? It was to be found only at Hillcrest. My arrogant attitude had no room to offer grace – to anyone. I was trained to be meticulously correct. In turn, I demanded the same of everyone else. I was righteously right – and my experience proved it.

Eventually, I discovered that this ‘comparison’ between demanding excellence and the reality of life took its toll. The world consistently failed to meet the exacting standards, leaving me alone and ensconced in a bubble of unearned superiority. I was the one being denied the pleasure of dining out.

Time passed, and I learned to relax. I was freed from my self-hired job as a discerning critic. And the word ‘freed’ is not used by accident. Suddenly, restaurant dining was fun! A new world had revealed itself. Bantering laughter with servers and hosts was something I looked forward to. And, I’m guessing, it was something they enjoyed as well. Generous tipping was new – and that was also pleasurable. 

All I needed to do was to stop thinking I was somehow better than others. This world holds a place for the definition of perfection but does not require a zero-sum game. 

I convinced myself I had learned a valuable lesson. But then, I found myself proclaiming with pride that I was a coffee snob. That lesson? I guess I had forgotten it. But with time and circumstance, I am happy to say that I have left this particular arrogance behind me as well. That’s not to say that I can’t appreciate the nuances of a well-prepared espresso, but I have also learned to accept Nescafe’ – believe it or not.

You have now been exposed to real-life confessions. I wish I could say those were the only two examples, but I think you’ve heard enough. This need to disclose personal flaws was triggered by a movie. Of course, it was.

This week, I saw “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever” with my family. I ‘might’ have hesitated a bit when invited but came to my senses in time to accept. I am grateful to have pushed reluctance aside.

It’s always good, in my opinion, when watching a production that has a point to make. Although I know this lesson well, I can’t help but appreciate the creative storyline used to remind me – once again. 

Since this is a recent release, I will forcefully prohibit myself from further reflection so as not to ruin it for you. You can click the link above to see the trailer. Encouragement is offered that you make time for a big-screen visit. 

Meanwhile, as I spend time relearning a well-learned lesson, I will recognize that Jesus disrupted the status quo by accepting, even inviting, many a persona non grata by offering Grace and a reminder that ‘Christmas is for everyone.’

Happy Thanksgiving!