The Gift

 Author Unknown

It was but a few short days until Christmas in 1966. Two young men walked the streets of Laredo, Texas, knocking on doors in search of someone who would hear the teachings of the Savior, so intent were they that the celebration of His birth should suit their own special purposes.

Filled with discouragement, the two young men turned their backs to the approaching twilight and began the long walk home. Retracing their steps of the afternoon, they came upon a low windswept riverbank. Jutting from its brow stood pieces of cardboard. Strangely, they felt moved to go to the door and knock. A small, olive-skinned child with tangled black hair and large dark eyes answered. Her mother appeared behind her, a short, thin woman, with a tired but warm smile. In her rich Spanish alto, she invited the young men to come in a rest awhile. They were made welcome and were seated on the clean-swept floor. The little one-room shanty seemed to be filled with shy, smiling, dark-eyed children. The mother proudly introduced each of them – eight in all – and each in turn quickly bobbed his or her head.

The young men were deeply moved by the extreme poverty they saw. Not one in the family had shoes, and their clothes were ill-fitting and in a condition beyond mending. The walls of the little home showed daylight between the wooden slats, and eight little rolls of bedding were pressed tightly into the cracks to help keep out the draft until they were needed for sleeping. A small round fire pit dug in one corner marked the kitchen. An odd ice chest, and a curtained-off section with a cracked porcelain tub served as the bathing area. Except for these, the room was barren.

The mother told how her husband had gone north to find employment. He had written that he had found a job of manual labor and that it took most of his small wage to pay his room and board. But, she told the young men, he had managed to save fifty cents to send them for Christmas, with which she had purchased two boxes of Jell-O. It was one of the children’s favorites and would make a special treat for Christmas Day.

The next morning, as soon as the local shops opened, the young men hurried to the dime store and purchased as many crayons, cars, trucks, and little inexpensive toys as they could afford. Each was carefully wrapped in brightly colored paper and all were put into a large grocery bad. That evening the two young men took their gifts to the shanty on the riverbank. When they knocked, the mother swung the door open wide and invited them in. They stepped inside and in halting Spanish explained to the children that they had seen Santa and he had been in such a hurry he’d asked if they could deliver his gifts to the children for him.

With cries of delight, the children scrambled for the bag, spilling its contents upon the floor and quickly divided the treasured packages. Silently the mother’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude. She stepped forward to tightly clasp one of each of the young men’s hands in hers. For long moments she was unable to speak. Then, with tears still welling from her eyes, she smiled and said, “No one has ever been so kind. You have given us a special gift, the kind of love that lights Christmas in the heart. May we also give you a special gift?” From the corner of the room, she drew out the two small boxes of Jell-O and handed them to the young men. Then all eyes were moist. All knew the true meaning of giving and none would ever forget that at Christmas, the greatest gift of all was giving.