“John, a christening in a restaurant? Now we’ll have to buy a proper gift,” I said to my husband after learning our daughter was throwing a lavish party for our little granddaughter. This is the story of how we tried to understand the right way to celebrate her christening—and why it caused so much disagreement.
**The Invitation**
Our daughter, Emily, had her baby six months ago. Little Sophie is our first grandchild, and John and I adore her. When Emily announced the christening plans, I was pleased—it’s an important occasion, and I wanted it done properly. But then she explained it wouldn’t just be a simple church service followed by tea at home; instead, she’d booked a restaurant, hired a photographer, and invited dozens of guests. I was baffled. “Emily, why all this fuss? It’s a christening, not a wedding!”
She insisted she wanted it to be special, something to remember. Her husband, James, agreed—it was their first child, after all. I didn’t argue, but it didn’t sit right with us. John and I have always lived modestly, and such extravagance seemed unnecessary.
**The Gift Dilemma**
The real trouble started when I thought about the gift. Traditionally, you give something meaningful—a silver cross, a Bible, or money for the child’s future. But Emily hinted that in a restaurant setting, “you can’t just show up empty-handed.” I asked, “So, should we put money in an envelope?” She replied vaguely, “Well, do as you like, but most people bring something.” I did the sums—£20 in an envelope felt too little, and we couldn’t afford much more. Our pension only stretches so far, especially after fixing the roof.
John suggested skipping the restaurant altogether. “Let’s visit the next day instead,” he said. “We’ll congratulate Sophie at home and give her something from the heart.” I agreed—it felt cosier, and we wouldn’t have to fret about gift etiquette. We settled on a silver cross and a beautifully illustrated children’s Bible—thoughtful and traditional.
**The Argument**
When I told Emily our plan, she was hurt. “Mum, are you seriously not coming? It’s Sophie’s big day, and you’re just… opting out?” I tried explaining we weren’t against the christening, just the restaurant spectacle. But she took it personally. “All the other grandparents will be there—don’t you want to be part of this?” That stung. Of course we did—but why did it have to be in a restaurant?
John was firm: “If they want to splash out, that’s their choice. We’d rather spend time with Sophie quietly.” Still, seeing Emily upset made me wonder—were we being too old-fashioned? Should we have just gone along with it?
**The Compromise**
In the end, we found a middle ground. John and I attended the church service, which was heartfelt and lovely. Sophie looked angelic in her white gown. We skipped the restaurant do but visited Emily and James the next day, bringing our gifts and sharing a quiet tea with Sophie. Emily was miffed at first but softened when she saw how Sophie smiled at us.
I realised traditions mean different things to different people. For Emily, it was about celebration; for us, it was about closeness. But it left me uneasy—will every family occasion now come with envelopes and expectations?
If you’ve faced something similar, how did you handle it? How do you balance your own values with your children’s wishes? Or are we just too stuck in our ways? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
