“John, a christening in a restaurant? And now we have to buy a gift? Let’s just visit the next day and congratulate our granddaughter at home, without all this fuss,” I said to my husband when I found out our daughter was organising an extravagant christening for her little one. This is the story of how my husband and I tried to figure out the right way to celebrate our granddaughter’s christening—and why it caused so much disagreement.
**The Invitation**
Our daughter, Emily, had her baby girl six months ago. Little Charlotte is our first grandchild, and John and I adore her. When Emily announced she was planning the christening, I was thrilled—it’s an important occasion, and I wanted it done traditionally. 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 taken aback. “Emily, why so much? It’s a christening, not a wedding!”
Emily insisted she wanted everything to be beautiful, something to remember. Her husband, James, backed her up—said it was their first child, and they wanted to celebrate it properly. I didn’t argue, but inside, it didn’t sit right. John and I have always lived modestly, and spending so much on a christening seemed unnecessary.
**The Gift Dilemma**
Things got trickier when I started thinking about a gift. Traditionally, you give something meaningful—a christening gown, a silver spoon, or money for the child’s future. But Emily hinted that since it was in a restaurant, “you can’t just show up empty-handed.” I asked, “So, should we put money in an envelope?” She dodged, saying, “Well, do what you like, but everyone else is bringing something.” I did the maths—£50 in an envelope felt cheap, but we couldn’t afford more. Our pension’s modest, and we’d already spent our savings on fixing the roof.
John suggested skipping the restaurant altogether. “Let’s visit the next day, congratulate Charlotte at home, and give her something from the heart,” he said. I agreed—it felt cosier, and we wouldn’t have to worry about how much to give. We decided on a silver cross and a beautiful children’s Bible—a heartfelt and meaningful gift.
**The Talk with Emily**
When I told Emily our plan, she was hurt. “Mum, are you really not coming to the christening? It’s such an important day for Charlotte, and you’re just opting out!” I tried explaining we weren’t against the christening, just the restaurant affair. But she took it personally. “All the other grandparents will be there—don’t you want to be part of the family?” That stung. Of course we do—but why must it be at a restaurant?
John was firm: “If they want to spend a fortune, that’s their business, but we’d rather spend time with our granddaughter 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?
**How We Compromised**
In the end, we found a middle ground. John and I attended the christening service at the church—it was lovely, and Charlotte looked angelic in her white gown. We skipped the restaurant reception but visited Emily and James the next day. We gave them the cross and Bible, spent time with Charlotte, had tea. Emily was a bit frosty at first, but she softened, especially when Charlotte reached for us.
I realised traditions mean different things to different people. For Emily, it was about a grand celebration. For us, it was about being close to our granddaughter. Still, I couldn’t shake the worry—will every family event now be like this, with envelopes and obligations?
If you’ve been in a similar situation, how did you handle it? How do you balance your principles with your children’s wishes? Or are John and I just being too stubborn with our “modesty”? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
