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 “Daddy, wook at dis” little Mitch said with enthusiasm.  He just discovered a leaf covered in a fresh blanket of snow. In his young mind, he thought he discovered the only remaining leaf on earth – for the rest had disappeared in a wintry wonderland.   

My little boy didn’t have much time to live – only a few years, in fact.  He was diagnosed with a fatal disease – so my wife and I learned, in a hurry, the value of time and that each moment was a gift beyond price.  So, when my little boy handed me this leaf as if he found a treasure beyond measure, my heart melted, and I was reminded of 5 valuable lessons about the gifts of giving.

Start with the Heart

It wasn’t the leaf that was special, but instead because it came from the heart.  Most often, the sweetest gifts in life are felt with the heart, not with our hands.  A smile, a gentle compliment, or the recognition of a positive change are sometimes the sweetest gifts we’ll ever give or receive.  When we share our hearts with others, our own heart enlarges.  A simple, snow-covered-leaf held gently by a tiny hand became a beautiful gift.

 Little Things Are Big Things

Isn’t it interesting that when we forget the little things in life, we begin having big problems?  The little things make or break relationships, bank accounts, and personal well-being.  At the same time, the little things have the potential to make beautiful outcomes.   Often, it isn’t the big gifts that make a difference, but instead the accumulation of little ones.  I’m not talking about earrings and other things – but instead the gentle acts of kindness that keep our relationships healthy and strong.

A Thoughtful Gift is a Gift Twice

Little Mitch taught me the most meaningful gifts aren’t really about the thing itself, but instead the meaning or intent behind it.  A thoughtful gift is really an evidence of our affection; a way of saying “I understand you” or “I care.”  A thoughtful gift is a gift twice.

When You Give, You Get

There is a heavenly paradox that when you give to others, you always seem to get.  The sweetest memories in life often come from the times were losing ourselves in the service of others.  I could tell by the look on my sweet son’s face when he handed me this leaf; he got more out of giving than he got from keeping.

Moments Over Material Things

Perhaps the greatest thing I learned from the life and death of my son is that moments are far more valuable than material things.  I’d give everything I own away for just one more day.  Yet, when I think back on my time with my son, those moments that mattered are gifts I can hold near to my heart.  This photo is one such moment.

This holiday, as we think of giving gifts to each other, we have an opportunity to make this Christmas extra special.  Yes, there are gifts sitting patiently under the warm glow of our Christmas trees, but perhaps the greatest gift we can give our loved ones is a chance to step outside our routine and experience the joys and gift of giving to others.  We can make memories, which are the most beautiful gifts of all, by finding ways to serve others.

Join Mitchell’s Journey this holiday season to discover the beautiful Gift of Giving. Attached to this article is a free program that will schedule a seven-day task list into a calendar.  This tool will give you prompts and ideas on ways to love and serve others. As you give back to others, you will find your holidays enriched, and you'll have experiences to last a lifetime. I promise. 

This is your chance to let your light shine and give to others.

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When I was a young boy, I remember waking up at night only to find my mother or father gently opening my bedroom door to check on me. Sometimes, more often than not, they’d linger a moment as I’d drift back to sleep. It wasn’t until I became a parent that I began to understand why they’d linger. I found myself doing the same thing with my children, especially when they were young. I’d look upon my children with so much love in my heart I thought my tender heart would explode.

“I learned that in the quiet of night, even during those dark struggles of the soul, we must trust our Father and step into the unknown; for in matters of faith, that is the price. That is the toll.”

— Christopher M. Jones | Mitchell's Journey

As far back as I can remember, Mitch wanted Natalie and me to tuck him in at night. That little ritual of pulling the covers up to his chin and kissing his sweet face is something I’ll always remember with a heart of gratitude. Natalie had a special way of tucking the sides of his blanket under his body on both sides, and Mitch loved the feeling of being snuggled. Soon he’d fall fast asleep. Without realizing it, I’d find myself wandering back into his room to check on him, and my other children. I’d crack the door open only to spill some warm light into a moonlit room. There, I’d see my babies fast asleep. Sometimes, I’d think how curious it was that just a few years earlier before they were born, I was totally and completely content to live without them. But now that I had them, I couldn’t imagine a life without them.

I’ve experienced all manner of loss, and nothing cuts so deep as to lose a child.

When Mitch was home on hospice, my regular prayer routine became more focused and more heartfelt. Somewhere, in the quiet of night, by my son’s bed or on the edge of mine, I wept to my Father praying for deliverance. In my suffering, I grew closer to my Father. Even still, never did night seem so dark as when my son was slipping away. I discovered that when God doesn’t deliver us from our sorrows, He will deliver us through them. I also learned, in the quiet of night, a valuable lesson about dark times and how we can begin to discern light – the kind of light that kindles faith.

Just recently, I had a conversation with a father who was undergoing a tremendous hardship. In a private message on Facebook, he asked me, “Do you believe in angels?”

I responded, “Yes, I do believe in angels and that they walk among us, unseen. Sometimes, if we're quiet and listening, we can feel their presence. Sometimes.”

I continued, “We had some profound moments with Mitch [when] he passed away. As Mitch was in the process of dying, he slept a lot [and we agonized that we were losing him before we lost him]. Natalie and I were in a state of deep despair and couldn't feel as easily what others felt. Some people dropped gifts or notes at our door, not knowing what was happening in our home the last few days. They would leave our house and send us a text saying things like, ‘I'm not sure what's happening at your home, but I felt something I've never felt before. It felt like I was walking through a crowd of angels.’”

I believe, despite how dark the world felt at the time, we were surrounded by a host of heavenly angels, bearing us up when we were so tired and so weak. In fact, I don’t think it … I know it. I know it for reasons I will not describe – for some things are too sacred to share.

I’ve come to learn over the last few years something Ralph Waldo Emerson observed, “When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.” I’ve grown to appreciate that phrase, “When it is dark enough …” You see, sometimes it isn’t dark enough for us to see those heavenly blessings, that present themselves like little stars. And if we learn to look, our spiritual eyes will begin to see tender mercies that are meant for you and me.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing new stories about Mitch and how I learned to see the light, even through what seemed impenetrable darkness. I learned that in the quiet of night, even during those dark struggles of the soul, we must trust our Father and step into the unknown; for in matters of faith, that is the price. That is the toll.

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2017 GIFT & BLANKET DRIVE
For those who are interested in helping Mitchell's Journey lift the hearts of children this holiday season, we're holding our 5th annual Gift & Blanket drive and will be donating all contributions to Shriners Hospital, the same hospital that cared for Mitch and many other children with DMD. This time of year can feel cold and scary, especially if you're a sick child in a hospital. So, we want to help children feel loved in the same way Mitch felt loved.

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The second image in this post is the card we attach to every gift and blanket - so families who receive your donation know it comes from a generous heart (you) who was touched by little Mitch.

Please send packages by December 20th to:

5526 West 13400 South #102
Herriman, UT 84096

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I just love Christmas ... I love everything about it. I remember when I first bought this little USB Christmas tree ... Mitch thought it was so cool and he loved to come to the office and see it aglow on my desk. The screen saver (behind the tree) is close to my heart because it reminds me of Mitchell's love of sunsets, cozy atmospheres and his romantic view of the holidays. To him, he looked forward to giving gifts to others then snuggling up in a warm and cozy home with the people he loved. That's all I want to do anymore: give and love.

I thought I lost this tree a year ago, but Natalie recently found it buried under other Christmas decorations. Today, when I look at this little tree I think of Mitch and the beautiful gift he was and remains in my life. Despite the heartache that comes and goes like an evening tide, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Though painful, I wouldn't trade the gift of Mitch for anything.

I just hope one night I can see my son in my dreams so I can tell him how much he mattered to me and how very much I love him.