**Personal Diary Entry**
*16th March*
“John, a christening in a restaurant? We’ll have to buy a gift as well,” I said to my husband when I found out our daughter was organising an elaborate christening for her little girl. This is the story of how John and I tried to figure out the right way to celebrate our granddaughter’s christening—and why it caused so much friction.
**The Invitation**
Our daughter, Emily, had her baby six months ago. Little Grace is our first grandchild, and John and I adore her. When Emily announced she was planning a christening, I was thrilled—it’s such an important occasion, and I wanted everything done properly. But then she explained it wouldn’t just be a simple church service followed by tea at home—it was going to be in a restaurant, with dozens of guests, a host, even a photographer. I was baffled. “Emily, why make such a fuss? It’s a christening, not a wedding!”
Emily insisted she wanted it to be beautiful, something to remember. Her husband, James, agreed—this was their first child, after all. I didn’t argue, but inside, I felt uneasy. John and I have always lived modestly, and spending so much on a christening seemed unnecessary.
**The Gift Dilemma**
The real trouble started when I thought about the gift. Traditionally, a christening gift should be meaningful—a silver cross, a Bible, or perhaps some savings for the child’s future. But Emily hinted that guests at the restaurant would be bringing something. “So, do we just put money in an envelope?” I asked. She hedged, “Well, it’s up to you, but everyone else will bring something.” I did the maths—£20 in an envelope would look cheap, but we couldn’t afford much more. Our pension barely covers bills, and we’d just spent our savings on fixing the roof.
John suggested skipping the restaurant altogether. “Let’s visit the next day, congratulate Grace at home, and give her a heartfelt gift,” he said. I agreed—it would be cosier, and we wouldn’t have to worry about how much to give. We decided on a silver cross and a lovely children’s Bible—something both traditional and sincere.
**Talking to Emily**
When I told Emily our plan, she was hurt. “Mum, are you really not coming? It’s Grace’s big day!” I tried explaining that we weren’t against the christening—we just didn’t want to be part of some fancy restaurant affair. 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 spend a fortune, that’s their choice, but we’d rather see Grace at home.” Still, seeing Emily upset made me wonder—were we being too old-fashioned? Should we just go along with it, even if it wasn’t our style?
**Finding a Compromise**
In the end, we met halfway. John and I attended the church service—it was touching and simple, with Grace looking like a little angel in her white dress. We skipped the restaurant party but visited Emily and James the next day. We gave Grace the cross and Bible, spent time with her, and had tea together. Emily was still a little hurt, but she softened when she saw how Grace reached for us.
I’ve realised traditions mean different things to different people. For Emily, throwing a grand celebration mattered. For us, being close to Grace was what counted. But it still leaves me unsettled—will every family occasion now come with envelopes and expectations?
Has anyone else faced this? How do you balance your principles with your children’s wishes? Or are John and I just being stubborn about our “modesty”? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
