It was only four days before Christmas. The spirit of the
season hadn't yet caught up with me, even though cars packed the parking lot of
our local discount store. Inside the store, it was worse. Shopping carts and
last minute shoppers jammed the aisles.
Why did I come today? I wondered. My feet ached almost as
much as my head. My list contained names of several people who claimed they
wanted nothing but I knew their feelings would be hurt if I didn't buy them
anything.
Buying for someone who had everything and deploring the
high cost of items, I considered gift-buying anything but fun.
Hurriedly, I filled my shopping cart with last minute
items and proceeded to the long checkout lines. I picked the shortest but it
looked as if it would mean at least a 20 minute wait.
In front of me were two small children - a boy of about 5
and a younger girl. The boy wore a ragged coat. Enormously large, tattered
tennis shoes jutted far out in front of his much too short jeans. He clutched
several crumpled dollar bills in his grimy hands.
The girl's clothing resembled her brother's. Her head was
a matted mass of curly hair. Reminders of an evening meal showed on her small
face. She carried a beautiful pair of shiny, gold house slippers. As the
Christmas music sounded in the store's stereo system, the girl hummed along,
off-key but happily.
When we finally approached the checkout register, the
girl carefully placed the shoes on the counter. She treated them as though they
were a treasure.
The clerk rang up the bill. "That will be
$6.09," she said.
The boy laid his crumpled dollars atop the stand while he
searched his pockets. He finally came up with $3.12. "I Guess we will have
to put them back," he bravely said. "We will come back some other
time, maybe tomorrow."
With that statement, a soft sob broke from the little
girl. "But Jesus would have loved these shoes," she cried.
"Well, we'll go home and work some more. Don't cry.
We'll come back," he said.
Quickly I handed $3.00 to the cashier. These children had
waited in line for a long time. And, after all, it was Christmas. Suddenly a
pair of arms came around me and a small voice said, "Thank you lady."
"What did you mean when you said Jesus would like
the shoes?" I asked.
The boy answered, "Our mommy is sick and going to
heaven. Daddy said she might go before Christmas to be with Jesus."
The girl spoke, "My Sunday school teacher said the
streets in heaven are shiny gold, just like these shoes. Won't mommy be
beautiful walking on those streets to match these shoes?"
My eyes flooded as I looked into her tear streaked face.
"Yes" I answered,"I am sure she will."
Silently I thanked God for using these children to remind
me of the true spirit of giving.
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