Christmas is for Love

 Author Unknown

Christmas is for love. It is for joy, forgiving and sharing, for laughter, for reuniting with family and friends, for tinsel and brightly decorated packages. But mostly, Christmas is for love. I had not believed this until a small, elf-like student with wide-eyed innocent eyes and soft rosy cheeks gave me a wondrous gift one Christmas.

Mark was an 11-year-old orphan who lived with his aunt, a bitter, middle-aged woman greatly annoyed with the burden of caring for her dead sister’s son. She never failed to remind young Mark of that; if it hadn’t been for her generosity, he would be a vagrant homeless waif. Still, with all the scolding at home, he was a sweet gentle child.

I had not noticed Mark particularly until he began staying after class each day to help me straighten up the classroom.  (I later found out that he did this at the risk of arousing his aunts’ anger) We did this quietly and comfortably, not speaking much, but enjoying the solitude of that hour of the day. When we did talk, Mark spoke mostly of his mother. Though he had been quite nail when she died, he remembered a kind, gentle, loving woman who always spent much time with him.

As Christmas drew nearer, however, Mark failed to stay after school each day. I looked forward to his coming and when, as the days passed, and he continued to scamper hurriedly from the room after class, I stopped him one afternoon and asked why he no longer helped me in our classroom. I told him how I had missed him and his large gray eyes lit up eagerly as he replied “Did you really miss me?” I explained how he had been my best helper.

“I have been making you a surprise”, he whispered confidentially. “It is for Christmas.’” With that, he became embarrassed and dashed from the room. He didn’t stay after school any more after that.

Finally came the last school day before Christmas. Mark crept slowly into the room late that afternoon with his hands concealing something behind his back.

“I have your present “, he said timidly when I looked up. I hope you like it! “He held out his hands, and there, lying in his small palms was a tiny wooden chest.

It’s beautiful, Mark. Is there something in it? It I asked, opening the top to look.

“Oh, you can‘t see what‘s in it “, he replied, “and you can‘t touch it or taste it or feel it. Mother always said it makes you feel good all the time, and warm on a cold night and safe if you‘re all alone.”

I gazed into the empty box.  What is it, Mark, that will make me feel so good?” J asked gently.

“Its love “, he whispered softly. “Mother always said that it’s best when you give it away. And with that he turned quietly and left the room.

So now, I keep a small toy chest crudely made of scraps of wood on the piano in my living room and only smile as inquiring friends raise quizzical eyebrows when I explain to them that there is love inside.

Christmas is for love.