When I was a kid, Christmas morning ended with several piles of unwrapped gifts, one pile per kid-owner; a living room cluttered with torn wrapping paper, loose bows, and discarded packaging; and one or two lonely unwrapped presents under the tree. The unwrapped gifts usually belonged to an out-of-town relative or family friend whom we had not encountered in the hurried run-up to Christmas day. Most of these gifts were unexciting tokens — candles, perfumed soap, candy — but nonetheless they fascinated me, and even made me a bit jealous. For the people getting these gifts, Christmas was not over.
There is a special joy in getting a late Christmas gift. And in giving one. This year, because I had to work on Christmas day, we didn’t make the rounds to give away all our gifts before the big day. Two of the orphaned presents under our tree were for children. So this year, for the first time I experienced the pleasure of presenting a child with a late gift. Two kids who thought the entire Christmas harvest was in the barn and that there was nothing left but the accounting. Instead, four days later they got the last thing they expected — one more present — and the gift of seeing Christmas extended unexpectedly.
It’s like being told as a child that you can stay up an extra hour before going to bed. For adults, it’s like waking up at 5 o’clock in the morning, thinking you have to go to work, then remembering that today is your day off.
There is no pleasure quite like an unexpected pleasure. I have even toyed with the idea of holding out next year, maybe a gift or two, just to extend the fun. I’ve never understood why so many people are so quick to shut the door on Christmas. For me, the best part of Christmas is the days after, when I can relax in the afterglow, free from the frenetic pace of the days leading up to it. I don’t guess it's fair to intentionally keep a gift away from a child for a couple of days to suit my own pleasure, but still, in my mind, Late Christmas is the best Christmas.