When I was growing up, I loved looking at the Sears Wish Book, drooling over desired toys and hoping Santa would bring them to me, especially anything Barbie.
During times of financial stress, I received knock off Barbies and knock off Barbie clothes. Some Christmases there were many toys, including real Barbies, and some saw me barely getting anything.
One item I could consistently count on, though, was getting a brown paper bag at my church filled with simple goodies that hearkened back to more simple times.
Those little brown bags were coveted!
After every Christmas pageant, each child in attendance could pick a bag from under the tree and take it home. The bags were filled with the same items year after year after year: A red apple, an orange, a small box of Sun-Maid raisins, two whole walnuts, a couple Snickers or Milky Way bars, a candy cane, and chewing gum.
That was it.
And yet, my friends and I got excited over these bags.
I’ve often wondered WHY we were so excited.
Was it the predictability of the contents of the bags? Was it the aroma of apples, oranges, milk chocolate, and raisins? Was it the simplicity of the gift?
I’ve no clue, but what I DO know is that I treasured getting that bag every year.
So many mainline Protestant churches have seen membership and attendance decline over the past couple decades, and the beloved church of my childhood and youth is no exception. I wonder if they still do those little bags, given the small number of children who regularly attend church.
We live in an era of TOO much.
Too much news from a variety of sources. Too many social media platforms. Too many events. Too many things screaming for our attention.
In this quiet and hopeful Advent season, I am choosing simplicity: Doing some powering down yoga moves and breath work by my Christmas tree. Lighting the candles on my Advent wreath as I read my nightly devotional and sing the chorus of “O, Come, Emmanuel.”
The latter–which I transparently own up to in this post–brings tears to my eyes as I think of Christmases past, my loved ones who have gone to be with God, and, yes, little brown bags filled with simple little treats.
Maybe this year I will replicate those bags for my granddaughters and share my childhood memories with them. I am certain there will be eye rolls given that they all have either an iPhone or an iPad and indulge in more pricey skin care than me.
Then, again, maybe they will appreciate the simple beauty of a little brown bag filled with an apple, raisins, walnuts, chocolate bars, and gum.
In the spirit of Advent… one can hope.
Amy Walton is a Christian writer and speaker, yoga and breath work instructor, and lover of all things simple. Connect with her at amywaltoncoaching@gmail.com.
