We fall into the “Little Women” syndrome, thinking “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.”

The red and green tree skirt barely shows because of all of the wrappings and ribbons covering it. Other boxes and colorful bags lean against the wall, the attached tags addressed to family members and special friends.

Some gifts have been sent from afar; others have been selected by and for those on hand. Some are for family pets; others are signed mysteriously “from Santa.” Some presents are edible; others in envelopes resting against tree branches are ‘spendable.”

The height of the Christmas tree itself is diminished by the mound of gifts spread around it – an array Louisa May Alcott’s characters could not have envisioned even in fiction.

And the breadth of the Christmas holiday itself, if we allow it, can be reduced as well by emphasis on the trappings rather than on the treasures of the season. Our eyes blinded by twinkling lights and department store shelves, we fail to notice the daily growth of the amaryllis someone sent.

We rush to the next social gathering but neglect a caroling party at the nursing home. We watch as another advent candle is lighted at church, but our minds are making lists of what’s next to do.

Then, as if that candle illuminated our memory, we recalled another church service years ago in which youngsters created their own script for Christmas Eve. Using paper plates as masks, the children depicted the beloved Charles Schulz friends: Charlie Brown, Linus, Lucy, Peppermint Patty and Snoopy. They borrowed from “happiness is,” and recited in simple lines what Christmas meant to them. No one said: “Christmas means presents.” But many of them said Christmas means love.

Other children have offered similar gems of wisdom.

“Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.”

“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.”

“Love is when someone hurts you. And you get so mad but you don’t yell at them because you know it would hurt their feelings.”

“When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.”

“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.”

That’s what love means to a group of 4- to 8-year-olds, including the 4-year-old child whose neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into his yard, climbed onto his lap and just sat there. When his mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy replied, “Nothing. I just helped him cry.”

Talk about a real gift that lasts throughout the year.