A gift completed by its deadline is no gift at all. – St. Augustine, probably. I mean, if you asked him, he might say that. Don’t, though.
It’s that time of year again. Nope, not blizzard season. Not hockey season either. Did you expect this post to be timely or something? No, I think if you listen to those click click clicks up on the rooftop, you’ll know it’s time for Good Saint Nick to careen horribly down the chimney, sending smoke puffing out into the living room and spooking your cat, all while huffing, “Sorry I’m late!”
If your family is like mine, you’ve realized that it’s far simpler to compress the endless gift-giving into one big Secret Santa for the sake of ease. If your family is also like mine, you shot this ease in the foot by making it a handmade Secret Santa. Okay, fine: it’s not a handmade Secret Santa anymore. But years of watching people brainstorm obscure crafts and baked goods to bring to their cousin has inspired me to keep making handmade gifts even after it stopped being mandatory.
The downside is that when you blend a handmade gift with a Christmas deadline, things can get a little…tricky.
Anyway, here are my tips for creating a Secret Santa project that will be endless fun and definitely won’t result in you drying something in the car on the way to the party or presenting a Secret Saint Patrick gift instead:
1. Decide that, this year, you are going to learn an entirely new skill for your giftee.
You could “draw a picture,” or “do something that only takes a few hours,” like the haters are suggesting, or you could decide that as someone who has never sewn in their life, it’s naturally time to make your niece two dolls from scratch. Unsurprisingly, this results in presenting one doll at the party and hurriedly finishing the second while entertaining post-Christmas guests and squinting into the night to see where you dropped your thread.
NOTE: In order for this strategy to take full effect, you can’t decide to become a pupil of this new and unexplored hobby well in advance, using silly strategies like “watching YouTube tutorials” or “doing a practice run.” No, you obviously wait until the day before and spend twelve hours stiffly perched on a chair, creating the prototype of some bizarre craft you swear is going to turn out.
(It will turn out, just not until the party has already begun.)
2. Ignore this new skill set when next year rolls around.
Okay, so we agreed that it was worth it to master a new skill if only to gain the power of a new thing to gift to people. So, naturally, you’ll be making a replica next year, right? Hey, where are you going?
3. Enjoy your newfound art studio.
As much as I’d like to sit down and make a painting or bookmark or felted animal throughout the rest of the year, these hobbies never feel as readily available as they do the days before and after Christmas, when the supplies are splayed out on the table and the podcast is locked and loaded. This is the main reason I keep returning to these painstakingly handmade gifts–you think that it will be stressful until you find yourself with a single-minded goal and more time to be creative than you’ve had in months.
4. Fizzle out when the gift is done.
I tell myself that this year, I’ll let the magic continue past January, but it’s never the same depth of studio time. I find myself idly sketching a mug on the kitchen table instead of diving into the stamp-making supplies mere feet away.
5. Drag the gift by its collar into the new year.
While I made an art print for my aunt this year by the skin of my teeth, I may or may not be working on a second Christmas gift well into January. Why else would I be publishing a Christmas guide on January 19th?
6. Accept that this is who you are.
After three years of last-minute wrangling and Secret Santas that coalesce in January, my college friend group made the wise decision this year to just schedule the whole shebang for February. I like the grace that this strategy provides. I’m trying to do this more in my life in general, paying less attention to how I should be and just building expectations around the way that I already function.
O wise reader, do not beat yourself up for the ways you fall short around the holidays. After all, that’s what Ash Wednesday is for. Merry Christmas!
Hannah McNulty graduated from Calvin in 2021 and stuck around Grand Rapids, against all odds. She has spent her last few years singing in choir, teaching herself to love reading again, and trying to learn every fiber art simultaneously. She currently works at Eerdmans Publishing, where you can find her burying her nose in old paperwork and forcing anyone within earshot to listen to her bad puns.
