It was just last week that we celebrated Thanksgiving, and it’s difficult to believe that Christmas is only a few weeks away. When I was in my 20s, I learned a valuable lesson in thankfulness and gratitude during one Christmas season.
I have a few stories about past Christmases that I hold very dear. One of my favorites was when we drove to Florida with our kids, who were 9 and 6 at the time. We spent some time at what I like to call “Dizzy World” and a few days on the beach. What made it so special wasn’t the destination, but the drive itself. Some parents might think I’m crazy, but it was such a wonderful experience—one that could never be duplicated. It was probably one of the best Christmases I’ve ever spent with my children, who are now in their mid-30s.
But let’s go even further back to a Christmas when I was in my 20s. My spouse and I had been married for some time, but we didn’t have kids yet. Over 40 years ago, in what feels like a previous life, I worked in the broadcasting industry. I was on air for a while, but to make some real money, I got a job selling radio advertising. For about a year, I worked in broadcast advertising in the La Crosse, WI area and managed around 30 clients.
One of those clients was the owner of an appliance store in downtown La Crosse, Wettstein’s Appliance, which is no longer open. Dan Wettstein, the owner, was an intense manager. He understood that, at the end of the day, the buck stopped with him. It was his signature on the loans, his responsibility to take care of his employees, ensure sales were made, money came through the store, and that all the bills were paid.
I was just an advertising sales guy. My role was to put together whatever advertising campaign Dan wanted, ensuring they were correct and delivered to all the other radio stations in town. Even in my 20s, I worked hard because, at the end of the day, the buck stopped with me too. If I didn’t do my job, I wouldn’t get paid since it wasn’t a salaried position—it was all about performance.
Dan was a demanding individual, as he should have been because his livelihood was on the line. It wasn’t unusual for him to request—or rather, demand—that things be done as quickly as possible and to his exact specifications. So, when I got a phone call from him the day before Christmas Eve, asking me to stop by the store on my way home, I assumed the worst. I thought I was about to get a last-minute assignment for some after-Christmas campaign, which would mean spending Christmas Eve writing ads, coordinating with announcers, and getting everything recorded. I remember thinking, "Why is he making my life so difficult?"
I showed up at his office with a smile. His office was in the back of the store, with large windows so he could see the sales floor. It was always cluttered with papers, and I never understood how he kept anything organized. He asked me to wait while he finished a phone call. Once he hung up, he told me to hold on for a moment and ran off somewhere in the store. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, “I just want to go home.”
When he returned, he had a few things with him that I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t his employee, so I had assumed the worst. But instead, he came back with a big basket of fruit, a frozen turkey, and a bottle of champagne. He sat down at his desk and told me that he knew he could be difficult to work with and very demanding, but he wanted me to know how much he appreciated me. The gifts were for me to share with my family as a token of his thanks.
Decades later, I can name only a few other Christmases that had such a profound impact on me. That Christmas, I told everyone this story, and I’m still telling it 40 years later. Because of what Dan did, every time I needed an appliance—whether it was a television, washer, dryer, or refrigerator—I went straight to Wettstein’s. I didn’t even shop around for prices because of the gratitude I felt. Dan had made such an impact on my life, and he taught me a valuable lesson in appreciation.
Here’s the takeaway I want you to reflect on this holiday season: It’s not necessarily about the gifts or the checks you write. What made a difference for me wasn’t the fruit basket, the turkey, or the champagne, but the fact that Dan sat on the other side of his desk and told me how much he appreciated me and the work I was doing. I was just a young guy in my 20s who didn’t know much about business, but he valued who I was and what I contributed.
As we look ahead to Christmas, think about how you can make an impact in someone’s life—an impact so lasting that they’ll remember it decades later. Take a moment to consider what is the one thing you can do for someone else this holiday season.
