The
Giving Gift: A Holiday Story
by Brian Joseph
After
he had unwrapped his gifts on Christmas morning, the 5-year-old boy’s
mother asked him which one of his presents he wanted to donate to a poor
child who had less than him.
“None,”
the boy replied. His mom sat him on her lap and explained to him that
sharing with those who were less fortunate was part of the holiday spirit.
She also explained how a child who had less would probably be very happy
to receive a gift. This took some convincing from Mom, but the boy
eventually agreed to part with one of his gifts. Mom told him that he
could have until the following morning to decide.
The
day after Christmas, the boy put his four gifts in front of him and tried
to decide which one to part with. It was a difficult decision. His eyes
scanned over the toy flute, the book of Aesop’s Fables, the Popeye book
bag, and the toy dump truck with doors that really opened. He decided to
part with the flute.
“Where
do we take it?” he asked his mother. His mother explained that there was
a Salvation Army box two streets away and that the people who emptied this
box would make sure that it got to a child who needed a gift.
“How
will they know it is for a child?” he asked.
His
mother told him that he could tape a note to the flute and she helped him
to write one that read, “Please make sure this gets to a child who
doesn’t have a lot of toys.”
After securely
attaching the note to the flute, the boy said, “I forgot to write my
name. How will they know who this came from?”
His
mother explained that they wouldn’t need to know who it came from and
how, sometimes, part of giving was doing it so that others wouldn’t know
where it came from, like putting coins in the donation box at church.
“Well,
can I please write my name on it?” he said.
His
mother said it would be okay and he wrote his name at the end of the note.
This
parting with a gift the day after Christmas became a yearly ritual. When
he was 8-years-old, the boy so treasured the gifts he had received that
his decision needed to be made using the eeny-meny-miny-mo method, which
led him to part with a set of checkers.
“I
really love these, Mom,” said the boy. His mother told him he could
select something else, but he didn’t want to have to decide again. His
mother left the room and returned with a piece of cardboard, the boy’s
crayons and his bottle cap collection. Together they created a board and
set of checkers that he could keep for himself.
“I
bet no other kid in the world has checkers like these,” he said. That
year he decided all on his own not to put his name on the note that he had
attached to the checkers box.
Three
months later, when he saw a checkers set at his friend Jerry’s house, he
fought back the temptation to say “That was mine” after Jerry had told
him that an army man had brought it to his door.
When
he was 10-years-old, the laundromat, where his mother worked, closed
shortly after Thanksgiving, so gifts were sparse. On Christmas, he looked
over his three inexpensive gifts. His mother came and sat beside
him, and told him that this year he didn’t have to part with a gift. At
first this sounded great. But when he woke up the morning after Christmas,
he thought about how much fun he had watching Jerry play with the checkers
and how the “giving gift” could be secret and magical. So he told his
mother that he wanted to put his new football in the Salvation Army box.
“You
don’t have to do that,” his mother said. He told her that he wanted to
anyway, which caused his mother to get teary-eyed and give him a big hug.
Six
months later, his mother’s birthday was approaching and the boy emptied
his piggy bank and counted out three dollars and forty-nine cents. “What
would you like for your birthday?” he asked his mother.
She
was silent for a moment and then she spoke, “I’ve noticed Billy
playing catch football with his dad and it looks like a lot of fun. I
think I would like a football.” That year his mother got a football for
her birthday.
The
giving gift tradition continued into adulthood. One Christmas his own
5-year-old boy asked him, “What was the best gift you got for Christmas
when you were a kid?” He wanted to explain to his son that the best gift
he ever received didn’t come in a box, it wasn’t wrapped and you
couldn’t even hold it in your hand. He tried to explain the giving gift
as best as he could in words that a young child might understand.
"Do
you still do that Dad?" his son asked. His father explained that he
had not missed a Christmas in over 30 years. The following day the father
selected a new sweater and wrote directly on the white box, “Please give
this to someone who needs it.”
As
he was getting ready to drive to the Salvation Army box, his son asked,
“Can I come?”
The
father asked the boy to have his mother help him put on his boots, hat and
coat while Dad went to warm up the car. The father sat in the car waiting
for ten minutes and thought about the Christmas of the first giving gift.
He was just about to go back inside to see what was taking his son so long
when the little boy came running out with a new Play-Doh set in his hands
yelling, “Dad, can you help me write the note?”
______________________
Brian Joseph is the author of the mystical, musical, inspirational novel,
The Gift of Gabe.
http://www.giftofgabe.com/