After I received a gift from a neighbor, I mentioned how quickly she had her Christmas gifts out. She said with relief, "I'm DONE!" Often, Christmas can become one Santa-sized to-do list, and without any ho-ho-ho (or even mistletoe). This year, I invite you to not just "get it done" but to make it memorable.

One of my radio show listeners shared a special family Christmas experience. They had handed out assignments to their immediate and extended family to help a needy family by filling a couple of boxes with donations. However, when they met together, they had actually filled NINE boxes full of food, gifts and holiday decorations.

She wrote, "It was so exciting. We loaded up (all 41 of us) and headed to this family's home. The emotions that took over when the family answered the door were overwhelming! The father had been out of work for some time and the mother was eight months pregnant. They had been expecting us but I don't think at the volume at which we came.

"My point of the story is not to pat our backs, but after this many years, the kids still say, 'Remember when we took all those boxes to that family? Are we doing that again?' They don't remember what they got from Santa or anyone else that year, but they remember singing Christmas songs to a family in need. I keep that in mind when I think I need to buy "just one more gift..."

It's cliche but true; giving is so much better than getting, and much more of a memory-maker. Recently, when I asked my children what they received for Christmas three years ago, they couldn't remember (and their memory cells are intact). But when we talked of past Christmases, the first thing they shared (and continued to share almost daily) was being the Secret Santa.

They remembered dressing up in Dad's big coat and waiting until the coast was clear to ring the doorbell. We laughed how one year, like stealth, we drove down the street in our van, quietly (though with several young children it may have been a dull roar). We dropped off two young children to ring the bell and then silently moved down the street to make a U-turn and come back.

However, on the return pass as we approached the house, we heard ear-splitting yet familiar screaming and crying. It turned out that just as our children went up to the door the sprinkler system went on (in December, no less), and the kids were human icicles.

We also remembered one home where our two youngest rang the doorbell but didn't escape fast enough. The lady hollered to the retreating children, "Who are you?" and, in a moment of inspiration, they said in squeaky voices, "We're Santa's elves!"