Generally speaking I’m one of those who do Christmas shopping only after careful planning. Before I enter the store I know who is getting what from me, and I most often have their sizes on a 3x5 card in my pocket. So when Lynn and I do go shopping she explores the aisles with a purpose in mind, I generally wander far enough away from her to avoid hearing, “Honey, what do you think about this for Bobby?” (You see, if it’s not on my predetermined list Bobby doesn’t need it.)

So while she’s doing her inventory of the stores’ displays I’m wandering about looking at interesting things I’m not going to buy. Did you know there are all kinds of pocket knives pre-wrapped for purchase? There are men’s handkerchiefs neatly rolled and ready to give in neat little wooden boxes. There are compact kits for fishermen all the way down to line, hooks and lures. You can buy sweaters that are boxed with matching scarves and mittens. Amazing! And if that’s not enough, there are mirrors that don’t steam up in case you want to shave in the shower. There’s even a mirror with a built-in digital clock.

The things you can find in a general merchandise store are astounding. It boggles the mind just to contemplate the variety. But when you get down to it, my really favorite is cookies. Yep, I’m partial to those Christmas cookies that come in those holiday decorative tins. You can get cookies from all over the world, German cookies, British cookies, South American cookies, and even Appalachian cookies. I was studying the multiplicity of Christmas cookies when the woman spoke to me.

“Excuse me, sir. Who is it the English hate? Is it the Irish or the Scots?”

I am an experienced pastor. I am quite accustomed to people saying really strange things to me. As a consequence, I know how to buy time. “I beg your pardon,” I said.

She explained her reason for the question. “Oh, yes, well, you see, my daughter-in-law is from England. And she’s coming to our house for Christmas for the first time. I don’t want to buy her any present that might be offensive to a Brit. I’m thinking of buying these Scottish cookies, but I don’t want to buy Scottish cookies and then discover the Scots are not liked by the British. Do you see my problem?

I did see her problem. And I assured her I was sympathetic to the horn of the dilemma on which she sat. I suggested to her that perhaps a safe approach might be to purchase some local variety such as Georgia pecan cookies or South Carolina peach preserves.

She agreed with me that might be a really diplomatic solution.

She made her purchase and I moved on to study the weather alert radios. Lynn then came over to me. She asked what I was talking to that attractive woman about.

Out in the parking lot we ran into the lady. She told me she’d decided to get some peppermint bark.

“That’s a good choice,” I said. “I think they make that in New Jersey.”

The lady got me thinking about Christmas, about lambs and shepherds and wise men. I thought about how at Christmas we try to do the right things for the right people for a change. And that’s as it should be.