On the first Day of Christmas my true love gave to me - A Tongan looking at his first tree!

I hope that all of you have met my parents at one time or another. I know I’m biased but they are the most selfless and giving people you will ever meet. They have helped and blessed so many people. My friends always loved coming to my home because as one friend said “it’s like your house is Disneyland.” There was constantly something going on and my parents were a part of every bit of it.

One of my favorite Christmas stories started with the two of them. It was their first Christmas together. For those of you who don’t know them I hope you get to meet them one day because they are truly amazing people. So let me start from the beginning.

My mother is from Utah and my father is from Tonga. Most of you know this but you may not know that they met at BYU Hawaii. My mom was young and cute and my dad had hair! My mom is still cute but my dad – well let’s just say we were pretty stressful kids. My dad had recently returned from his mission in Guam and spoke “broken English”, is what he says. We believe this because we constantly tease and accuse him of speaking “Tonglish.” It’s a weird mix of a Tongan accent with English words.

My mom was working in Hawaii for the summer and met my dad. My father took immediate interest to this beauty and they began to date. My mom had a really good feeling about him but her time in Hawaii ended and she went back to Utah. They wrote letters back and forth and my mom decided to write him a letter saying that she couldn’t do a long distant relationship. The day she went to mail the letter she received a call from my dad. She was shocked! It was the day before Christmas and my dad had called to tell her that he had moved to Utah and was staying at his brother’s home.

This was my father’s very first time on the “mainland” and he had never seen a Christmas tree or snow. My father grew up in a very humble home with his many siblings. Even though his parents were highly respected and were considered to be wealthy, they had very little possessions and Christmas was nothing like it is here. He would receive a half dollar and a small orange and apple. Occasionally when he really needed it, he would get a shirt or a pair of shoes, but most of the time it was just a small piece of candy and the fruit. Nevertheless he was always grateful and looked forward to Christmas when he would get a few things.

My mother was excited that he was there and invited him to spend Christmas with her and her family. My grandparents scrambled to put together some presents for my dad so that he would be able to open gifts with everyone else in the family.

Christmas morning came and my dad recounts that he was enjoying himself watching my mother and her sister opening presents that they had given to one another. My grandma then pulled out a gift and handed it to my father. My dad took the gift with a surprised look on his face. He had not expected to get anything. He opened up the gift that was a red Christmas tie. Tears filled his eyes as he stared at it. He had never been given a gift like this before. The next gift he opened was a can of Almond Roca (which my grandmother gave everyone at Christmas time). Again my father became emotional at the gift.

Everyone was moved at the sight of my father opening gifts and being truly grateful no matter how big or small. My aunt Julie said that she couldn’t believe something like a tin of candy could make someone so happy and humbled to receive it. This was the biggest Christmas he had in his entire life. That’s hard to believe since most of us would have complained had we been given so little.

Both my parents tell us this story as a reminder that it doesn’t matter what the quantity or even the quality of the present is, we should always be grateful for what we are given and we should demonstrate our gratitude and love for those who give it.