Boxing Day is a throughly British holiday celebrated the first workday after Christmas. In Victorian times, people would fill up small boxes with money and give them to those who helped them through the year such as merchants or their servants, and the poor. Upper class ladies would also give their last year dresses and fashions to their lady’s maids for their use. The roots of Boxing Day are linked to the tradition of placing alms in the church donation box and distributing the contents to the poor after Christmas, on the Feast of Saint Stephen. I have always been an Anglophine. I love British literature, especially 19th century. My favorite author is Jane Austen, although I like Dickens, Hardy, and even Trollope. But that’s not why I love boxing day…
In our home, Boxing Day is a time to fill the empty boxes of Christmas with donations. Out with the old and in with the new is a survival tactic around here. Living in a small house or cottage, as I affectionately called it, requires a policy of no net gain.
Today, as my three-year old napped and my five-year old built a snowman with her Daddy, I tackled the book shelves. The girls received many wonderful books, and craft materials for Christmas gifts, so I needed to make room. I know it sounds strange, but the whole process put me in a better mood. It was so relaxing as I sorted through the shelves, remembering how old the girls were when I last read this or that particular book to them. I must admit I did not get very far, but I sure had fun.
Do you like giving things away or do you feel guilty when you do?