On the Other Side of Angel Tree

Common reports show that children of prisoners may be up to seven times more likely than other children to go to prison themselves one day. When Angel Tree® volunteers give a gift at Christmas, or mentor a child, or send a child to summer camp, they're doing so with the hope that even just a few of these kids won't be swept away by the tragic trend of generational crime.

Every year, we hear about children who give their lives to Christ at summer camp, or who reconcile with their incarcerated parent, or who reach out to other children of prisoners. These are the stories we can't wait to tell. But always in the back of our minds loom the questions: Does Angel Tree make a long-term difference? These children seem to be on the right track, but what will they be doing 10 or 15 years down the road? Will they be marked by Christ or by the same attitudes and behaviors that sent their parents to prison?

Angel Tree just celebrated its twenty-fifth anniversary. That means the very first Angel Tree children-those who attended the first Christmas party hosted by Mary Kay Beard in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1982-are now in their thirties. Along with them there is a whole generation of Angel Tree kids who are "all grown-up" now and have something to say about Angel Tree, and how-and if-it really made a difference.

So, who are they?

They are mothers and fathers. They are pastors and truck drivers. They are real estate agents and NFL cheerleaders. They are soldiers and graduate students. They are dental hygienists and missionaries. And, yes, some have followed in their parents' footsteps. But others are energetic, intentional, and compassionate citizens who care deeply about their spouses, their children, and the next generation of Angel Tree kids.

Here are five of them and their stories.

One Christmas morning

"One of the saddest days I can remember was the day the police came to take my dad away with handcuffs," Robert Hutchinson remembers about a day in the mid-eighties when he was just 10. After the arrest, things fell apart for the Hutchinson family. Because Robert's father had been the primary breadwinner, the family was forced to downsize from their quiet country home to a small apartment in inner-city Fresno, California.

Even after downsizing, they struggled to make it. When December rounded the bend, Robert's mom cautioned the kids that Christmas would also be downsized this year.

So Robert wasn't surprised to wake up on Christmas morning to a bare room and his mom crying on the couch. As the new "man of the house," Robert sat down next to his mom and wrapped his arm around her, suppressing his own tears. He told her that Christmas gifts weren't important and that it would all be okay.

"Robbie, you don't understand," she gently chided him. "Look out on the porch."

Robbie rose from the couch and pushed open the front door to see gifts with angel tags attached to them. And there was also enough food for a Christmas dinner.

"The angels must have brought it!" his mom exclaimed.

When they began opening the gifts, Robert noticed his dad's name on all of the tags. Wow, Dad remembered me, even though he was so far away, he thought to himself.

Robert and his family later realized that the "angels" were Angel Tree volunteers from New Hope Community Church in Clovis who had left the gifts secretly.

Robert received a stuffed animal on behalf of his father. "It didn't matter," he says. "What mattered to me was that my dad still cared about me. That he didn't forget. That was a big deal. [The gift] could have been anything."

A balm for bad memories

"You'll never amount to anything," a guardian told nine-year-old tomboy twins Ann and Amy Reinhart, the youngest children in a struggling family from Washington state. That's a tough thing for any child to hear, especially for ones who already wore the stigma of being a prisoner's kid.

But there were enough positive messages being directed their way that they were able to see beyond one guardian's poor prediction. Nothing more so than the Christmas they were reminded that they were lovely young women.

Ann and Amy were shocked when a complete stranger-an Angel Tree volunteer-showed up on their doorstep one Christmas in the early eighties with gifts from their dad in prison. Ann remembers receiving a bottle of lotion and a sweatshirt. This gift triggered a change.

"Girly girl things-something to call my own, given by a complete stranger who cared-impacted me tremendously," she says. "I feel the lotion led to a turning point from tomboy to a young lady who was struggling to find herself in the midst of chaos and uncertainty."

Amy, too, remembers the impact of this visit and ones that followed in the remaining years that their father was incarcerated. She particularly remembers some Angel Tree volunteers who took the time to explain the Gospel to her even though she had been raised in church and had accepted Christ as her Savior at age four.

Hope in a soda bottle

"Christmas was almost gloomy and sad," 26-year-old Guillermo Herrera admits about the holiday season in Yuma, Arizona, when his father was in prison. "We would just sit around and watch TV and make something nice to eat."

Since his father was in and out of jail most of Guillermo's life, most Christmases were gloomy for Guillermo and his six younger siblings. His mother, an immigrant from Mexico, worked as a field laborer, and struggled to provide the basics for her large family. Once, they ran out of money to pay the rent on their mobile home. Evicted without warning, they found shelter on a friend's dirt floor that Guillermo later discovered was a chicken coop.

"During these hard times I longed for my father to be out of prison because I knew he would take care of us," he reflects.

With these harsh living conditions, Christmas gifts were out of the picture. But that didn't mean the children didn't know that they were missing out.

"You know that everybody else is celebrating, shopping, enjoying [their] gifts, but we were just there at night watching TV."

Then one day, when Guillermo was about 10, someone knocked on the door. It was an Angel Tree volunteer with gifts for the entire family. Each of the children received a toy and a clothing item with their dad's name on it. Guillermo says he felt like he was receiving something directly from his dad.

After that, he felt motivated to continue a relationship with his father by periodically writing letters to him and sending him photos. In return, his father sent him crafts that he had made in prison, like a model ship inside a soda bottle.

Growing pains

Junior high and a keen survival instinct sucked Robert into the gang activity that swirled around his urban neighborhood. But the compassion and continued generosity of the "angels" from New Hope Community Church kept pulling the Hutchinson family back into true community.

"Because of the hope that was shared with us, we couldn't help but be gravitated toward the people at church who were handing it out like it was candy in their pockets," Robert says.

While Robert vacillated back and forth between gang life and church, his dad was becoming a new man in prison. He came to know Christ and then began restoring his relationship with his wife and children. When he got out of prison after serving three years, the change was evident to his family, especially when he began attending church with them.

But Robert, who eventually pulled out of the gang culture, still couldn't figure out where he was heading in life. Although he had come to understand Christ as Savior at 13, he stopped attending church regularly and then dropped out of high school to begin working full-time as a carpenter, a trade his father had passed along to him from his prison vocational training.

"I was a punk kid who thought I could do it without school."

Inspiring strangers

As Ann and Amy grew past their tomboy phase into young ladies, they continued to do almost everything together, drawing strength from each other as they dealt with gossip that swirled around their father's incarceration. But even identical twins diverge at some point. For Ann and Amy, they headed in opposite directions about their dad. Over the years Ann remained close with him, even helping him to manage his finances from the outside. She says that receiving gifts from complete strangers from Angel Tree provided a model for the love and grace she extended to him.

"I think I was more aware of God's grace," she says. "Maybe getting a gift and seeing that compassion-a complete stranger helping somebody. The love of God can come about from anything."

Amy, on the other hand, grew increasingly distant from him. At the same time, she kept thinking about those same Angel Tree volunteers who had not only given gifts to total strangers, but had also boldly shared their faith with her and her siblings. Although Amy had been a Christian most of her life, she was impressed and inspired by the volunteers' courage to share the Gospel.

"I wanted to emulate what courage they had coming to a house and witnessing in that way. I felt for so long that I couldn't witness to anybody," she admits. "[But] God can use anybody. If they could do it, somehow I could do it, too. I never wanted to use my dad's situation as a crutch or as an excuse."

Transformed altruism

By the time Guillermo hit 15, his father was still in prison. But that didn't keep him from making straight A's and volunteering for community-based programs like the juvenile court system. He attributes his early sense of altruism to groups like Angel Tree that reminded him that people cared. "Angel Tree, the Salvation Army, Boys and Girls Club-these things kept me busy and gave me a sense of citizenship and responsibility."

Angel Tree also pointed him to a relationship with God through people who compassionately reflected Him. "[Angel Tree] showed me that people were willing to give of their time and their money for people they didn't even know. Organizations like that made the greatest impact on my world."

But he still sensed a void. He remembers a fellow student approaching him in the park one day and trying to tell him about Christ. Initially, Guillermo didn't want to listen, but the guy was persistent and Guillermo heard him out. As a result of this young man's persistence and a transforming revival service, Guillermo accepted Christ as his Savior. From there he continued making straight A's and volunteering in the community, but now he did all of it with a transformed perspective.

That same church

Robert's career took off as a carpenter and later as a maintenance technician. He married early, started a family, and began what he refers to as "the 30-year plan"-a fast-track to retirement. But it was not to be.

When he was 22, the same church that had surprised him and his family that Christmas morning more than 10 years earlier surprised him again by inviting him to attend a men's retreat and paying his way. He realized that he still had true community at New Hope.

Gradually Robert and his wife, Melissa, returned to the church "that had loved on us so much." For a few years, he helped out at the church fixing toilets and taking care of other minor repairs, all the while participating in an intensive Bible study with the senior pastor.

Then one day, the pastor popped the question: Would Robert consider becoming the next youth pastor? Robert didn't have to think about his response: No. He thought he had made too many mistakes over the years to qualify for the position. Plus, he didn't want to risk wrecking "the 30-year plan." But the pastor urged Robert to go home and talk to Melissa about the possibility. Robert guessed she would tell him to say "thanks, but no thanks."

Robert was surprised yet again; Melissa urged him to accept the offer. So, he said yes and took a steep pay cut.

That was five years ago. Today, at 31, Robert is the proud father of three-two daughters and a son. He looks to the example of his loving church family to help him navigate the world of parenthood.

"If not for the love of the people who spoke into our lives and who led us to the Word of God which teaches me how to be a humble, yet authoritative, parent, I wouldn't know how to do it."

He also sees how God used even his troubled teenage years to prepare him perfectly for his job as youth pastor. Every day he has the opportunity to speak hope and truth into the lives of struggling young men and women.

Robert's relationship with his dad has been "on and off" since his dad got out of prison. But he didn't make any more huge mistakes, and he still attends church with Robert and the whole family. And Angel Tree is still a significant part of Robert's life. For the past few Christmases, he and Melissa have picked several angel tags off the tree. A few years ago, Robert shared his story at an Angel Tree party for all of the recipients and their families. Afterward, several parents, with tears in their eyes, told Robert how much his testimony had impacted them.

Reconciling the bumps

In their late thirties, Ann and Amy are in the throes of careers and motherhood. Both work part-time in the dental profession, and each has two kids. When Ann is at work, Amy watches her children, and vice versa. "Not bad after being told we would never amount to much," Ann says.

Years after their father was released from prison, Ann is still closer to him than Amy is. But over the past seven years, Amy admits she's begun to open up to him a bit more since she's gotten married and started a family.

Neither Ann's nor Amy's adult journey has been without bumps and bruises. Amy has had to navigate the world of raising children with a spouse who doesn't share her faith in Christ. And Ann recently went through a divorce.

But through the ups and downs, they cling to each other, their church communities, and opportunities to share the love of Christ with others, many times through Angel Tree.

"My kids have helped pick out presents, [although] they haven't come with me to bring them yet," Amy says about recent years doing Angel Tree. "Since it's so personal, I want them to see that I'm doing what the Bible is asking us to do. It's actually fun!"

Ann sees Angel Tree as a chance to tell children of prisoners, "Twenty years ago, I was like you . . . Hey, you know, there is hope and you can do things."

In their faces

The model ship from Guillermo's father is proudly displayed in his office. At 28, Guillermo, a recent grad of the University of Arizona, works as an independent contractor. He is married, just bought a home, and talks to his dad, who now lives in Mexico, every few months.

Volunteerism is still a significant part of his life. He helps immigrants from Mexico with legal issues and also occasionally serves as an interpreter. A few summers ago, he took a two-week mission trip to Peru, where he volunteered in an orphanage. In the faces of the orphans, he saw his own, years ago as a lonely little boy without a father

"When I saw their little eyes, it made me want to cry. It hurt me as a child to know that I could not speak to my father or that he was not around to show affection to me," he says. "It was nice to know that I was there with those children, showing them affection and giving them a simple hug. That was awesome!"

Circling the Angel Tree

Angel Tree hasn't eliminated all poor choices or broken relationships. It hasn't protected all children of prisoners from walking the path to prison. But it has shown them a portrait of a better way. And it has taught them how to be a part of the solution. It gave a teen in the dregs of gang life a church community that he would one day help lead. It showed two little girls that they were not worthless, but that they had a hope and a future. It encouraged a young man to travel to South America to offer hope to a few orphans. And it taught a young mom how to teach her children to share the gift she once received.