How a Christmas Gift Saved Me From Becoming The Grinch
Recently, as we were decorating our Christmas tree, my 10-year-old son Brooks noticed an ornament that he found amusing. It was Santa dressed as a mailman. He asked me where it came from, and, to my surprise, I couldn’t remember in the moment. As is the case with Christmas ornaments, many have a story behind them. After we finished decorating, I took another look at the ornament on the tree, and suddenly, the story came flooding back. So grab some eggnog, sit by the fireplace, because, as my wife likes to joke, “Looks like it’s story time with John!” Let me tell you about the Christmas gift that saved me from becoming The Grinch.
It was Christmastime in 2007. I was working at USPS, and Six months earlier, I had been promoted from mail carrier to supervisor at my post office after spending several years delivering mail. Over those years, I’d observed plenty of supervisors come and go. Many made the same mistakes — micromanaging, taking a condescending tone, or adopting a rigid, top-down “my way or the highway” approach. They often made sure mail carriers and clerks knew they were on a different level than them and often never considered the whole employee, including the responsibilities they had at home when they took off the USPS uniform. I promised myself that if I ever stepped into a leadership role, I would do things differently.
When I became a supervisor in 2007, I stuck to that promise. Leading a team of about 20 carriers and a dozen clerks, I leaned into a management style centered on trust, inspiration, and respect. I embraced the fact that we were more than USPS employees; we were human beings. Yes, my title changed, but I always emphasized we were on the same team, looking to serve our customers together and go home to our families at the end of the day with as much peace as possible. I avoided the negativity and micromanagement I’d seen before, but I didn’t shy away from setting clear expectations, giving constructive feedback, or holding people accountable. I aimed to create a workplace where employees felt valued — not just as workers but as people with lives inside and outside of the post office.
For the most part, it worked. Attendance improved, safety incidents declined, our delivery numbers improved, and people seemed a little happier at work. Sure, not every employee bought in — some would have resisted any leadership style — but the majority responded positively. Our productivity and safety metrics reflected the shift.
My new “boss,” my postmaster, however, wasn’t impressed. He was a command-and-control type who believed in sticking to the way things had always been done. To him, my approach was too “friendly,” and he didn’t hesitate to let me know that I should change my approach.
Despite his criticism, I chose not to abandon my leadership style. I believed in it, and our results spoke for themselves. My employees knew that I was sticking to my approach even under pressure to change and be less “friendly.” Because of this decision, the tension between my postmaster and me was palpable, making my first Christmas as a supervisor a difficult one.
That same December, at home, my wife and I discovered that our apartment’s storage unit had been broken into. Everything inside — including our Christmas decorations — was stolen. We had gotten married the year prior, and many of those ornaments were irreplaceable, such as decorations commemorating our first Christmas as husband and wife and others we’d collected during our first Christmas together. My wife was heartbroken. The next day at work, an employee asked what was wrong. I explained the theft to a few employees and that my wife was upset, and we had to buy new Christmas decorations.
I didn’t think much of that conversation until several weeks later on Christmas Eve. That morning, I arrived at work and walked into my office to find a dozen new ornaments piled on my desk. Included in those ornaments-Santa Claus dressed as a mailman, the ornament my son would ask about 17 years later. Along with the ornaments, was a handwritten note:
“Thank you for not changing who you are. We appreciate you. Merry Christmas.”
It was a gift from the carriers and clerks I supervised. They had come together, knowing our Christmas ornaments had been stolen, as well as the flack I’d taken for my leadership style, and decided to show their support. I was floored. It let me know that despite my Postmaster’’s feedback, I was on the right track. At that morning’s safety stand-up meeting, I thanked them before they left to deliver their appointed rounds.
The postmaster, true to form, wasn’t impressed. He glanced at the ornaments on my desk, rolled his eyes, and muttered, “It won’t last,” before walking away. Funny enough, he didn’t last — he retired two months later.
Looking back, I don’t claim my leadership style was — or is — perfect. Leadership is never one-size-fits-all. I learned that your impact may not be immediately visible. Positive leadership often bears fruit in ways you don’t see right away; trust the process, and the results will come. I also learned to stay true to my values. You’ll face pressure to conform to others’ expectations, especially from those who don’t understand or value your approach. While it’s important to stay flexible and open to growth, never lose sight of who you are.
As I look at my Christmas tree this year, I’m reminded of what those ornaments, given to me 17 years ago, truly means. I’m thankful for that group of carriers who believed in my approach and took the time to lift my spirits with just a small token of appreciation. They’ve probably long forgotten about their gesture. But I never will. I’m glad my son asked me about those ornaments because it brought back such meaningful memories. When I told him the story of how I got the ornament, he said, “what a Grinch!”
I said, “yes, the person who stole our ornaments was a Grinch.”
“No,” He said. “Your boss was the real Grinch!”
Well said, Son…
In closing, without that gift from those carriers on Christmas Eve all those years ago, I might have lost my way — abandoning my leadership style and becoming a “Grinch” manager like my Postmaster. Their thoughtful gesture pulled me back, and I’ll always be grateful. Even now, when doubt creeps in or critics question my approach, I remind myself of a simple truth: leadership isn’t about me, the skeptics, or even the “bosses.” It’s about serving the people I lead and embracing the power of kindness in leadership.
That team gave me one of the greatest Christmas gifts of all — not something material, but their belief in me. They reminded me why staying true to myself matters. They saw me not as a flawless leader, but as a human being with emotions and vulnerabilities, just like them.
Their small gesture had a profound impact, and it’s a lesson that still resonates this Christmas. A simple act of kindness or humanity toward a coworker — especially during the holidays — can change their life. You never know what someone is going through. Maybe this year, there’s a coworker in your life who could use a reminder that they matter, too.
It’s a lesson that continues to shape the leader I am today, regardless of the critics, or the “Grinches” as Brooks would say.
Merry Christmas to you and your family!
