Big Things Come in Small Packages
by Dawn Kinzer
As a little girl, I learned one Christmas that special things don’t always come in big packages. Like the Christ child, they can arrive in what may at first look small and plain.

Relatives gathered to celebrate Christmas at my aunt and uncle’s large Wisconsin farmhouse. Later in the day, while the adults sat back and enjoyed their coffee, thirteen children were called together to play “Bingo.” We were shown a display of prizes wrapped in boxes of various sizes. Sensitive to feelings, my aunt made sure there were enough for each child to win one.

Younger than most of my cousins, and quiet by nature, I was still just as excited as the rest about the prospect of being able to choose from the pile of colorful packages.

But as we played, one child after another won the game before I managed to get my circular pieces in the required straight line. Packages were eliminated from the pile, and as the supply dwindled, my heart began to sink as the larger boxes disappeared.

It seemed to take forever, but I finally shouted, “Bingo!”

It was my turn to pick from the remaining few packages. I tried to guess what could be hidden inside each one. I made my decision and reached for a large gift, wrapped in bright red paper. There had to be something wonderful inside.

“Big things come in small packages,” my aunt whispered in my ear. She pointed to a gift, barely noticeable, wrapped in plain white tissue paper.

I trusted her and picked the smaller gift. I carefully unfolded the delicate tissue and discovered the silver ring hidden inside. The setting held a round, cut piece of glass that reflected all the colors of the rainbow. The ring had to be inexpensive, but to me it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. In my eyes and heart, I held a treasure in the palm of my hand.

In our pursuit for what we think may be better, it’s so easy to overlook anything that might appear insignificant. But what are we missing? What are the blessings, or everyday gifts, that we take for granted?

I don’t ever want to lose appreciation for a cool breeze blowing through the window on a hot afternoon, a comfortable bed after a tiring day, or a beautiful sunrise reminding me of God’s presence.

Wonderful, exciting, beautiful . . . and even life-changing things can be found in small packages. After all . . . didn’t the greatest gift bestowed upon us come in the gift of a small baby by the name of Jesus? And He gave the biggest gift of all. He gave us the gift of eternal life.

This Christmas, may you find great blessings in the small things.

Dawn Kinzer is a writer and freelance editor. Her writing has been published in the Christian Fiction Online Magazine, Backyard Friends, and The One Year Life Verse Devotional, and featured on the radio ministry, The Heartbeat of the Home.
To learn more about Dawn and her work, please visit:
Website and blog

She co-hosts and writes for the blog, Seriously Write. Learn more at her editing site:

7 thoughts on “

  1. Oh, Dawn, what a lovely post! You are so right. How many little things do we overlook during the course of the day because we deem them insignificant?

    I enjoy tiny little arms wrapped around my neck, lunches with hubby, and sharing a meal surrounded by family. I love to sink into my recliner in a darkened family room, before the world wakes, and stare at the lit tree, thanking God for the birth of His Son. For the love He showers us with.

    Thanks for the reminder to find joy in the smallest of blessings, Dawn.


  2. Thanks for sharing my story, Dora. I think it's also a reminder of how experiences throughout our lives impact us. It's made me aware of how I can affect those around me by my smallest actions or gifts. Children are so impressionable, and they are constantly watching and absorbing what we teach by our actions and words. What my aunt said and did was nothing grandiose, but I'll never forget it.


  3. A lovely post 🙂 I can remember one year my present being so much smaller than those of my brother and sisters…but mine was something that lasted many years longer than theirs – a travelling alarm clock. It's still in the attic in one of my boxes that followed me when I got married and left home.


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