The Spirit of Christmas Giving
Several years ago a thirteen-year-old boy who attended Mohawk Central School at Paines Hollow in New York heard an appeal for contributions to Santa Claus Anonymous, a group that provides gifts for unfortunate children that otherwise would go without Christmas presents. The boy struggled to save a few pennies for this purpose. On the Friday before Christmas vacation, he had fifteen cents and planned to turn in this small treasure at the school that day. But a furious blizzard blasted the area that Friday and the school buses could not run. So the boy waded a considerable distance through deep snow to give his fifteen cents to the school principal. The principal found it difficult to control his emotions as he accepted the gift, for the youngster was one of the destitute children listed to receive a Christmas present from Santa Claus Anonymous.
Long Walk, Much Love
The African boy listened carefully as the teacher explained why it is that Christians give presents to each other on Christmas Day. “The gift is an expression of our joy over the birth of Jesus and our friendship for each other,” she said.
When Christmas Day came, the boy brought the teacher a sea shell of lustrous beauty. “Where did you ever find such a beautiful shell?” the teacher asked.
The youth told her that there was only one spot where such extraordinary shells could be found—a certain bay several miles away.
“Why, it’s gorgeous,” said the teacher. “But you shouldn’t have gone all that way to get a gift for me.”
His eyes brightening, the boy answered, “Long walk part of gift.”
The Christmas We Will Never Forget
When our son Pete was six, it was a Depression year and the bare essentials were all we could afford. We felt we were richer than most people, through, in things of the mind and imagination and spirit. That was a comfort of sorts to us, but nothing a six-year-old could understand.
With Christmas a week off, we told Pete that there could not be any store-bought presents this year—for any of us. “But I’ll tell you what we can do,” said his father with an inspiration born of heartbreak. “We can make pictures of the presents we’d like to give each other.”
For the next few days, each of us worked secretly, with smirks and giggles. Somehow we did scrape together enough to buy a small tree. But we had pitifully few decorations to trim it with. Yet, on Christmas morning, never was a tree heaped with such riches! The gifts were only pictures of gifts, to be sure, cut out or drawn and colored and painted, nailed and hammered and pasted and sewed. But they were presents, luxurious beyond our dreams: a slinky black limousine and a red motor boat for Daddy. A diamond bracelet and a fur coat for me. Pete’s presents were the most expensive toys cut from advertisements. Our best present to him was a picture of a fabulous camping tent, complete with Indian designs, painted, of course, by Daddy, and magnificent pictures of a swimming pool, with funny remarks by me. Daddy’s best present to me was a watercolor he had painted of our dream house, white with green shutters and forsythia bushes on the lawn.
Naturally, we didn’t expect any “best present” from Pete. But with squeals of delight, he gave us a crayon drawing of flashy colors and the most modernistic technique. But it was unmistakably the picture of three people laughing—a man, a woman, and a little boy. They had their arms around one another and were, in a sense, one person. Under the picture he had printed just one word: US. For many years, we have looked back at that day as the richest, most satisfying Christmas we have ever had. –Margaret Tallcott
A Brother Like That
A college friend of mine named Paul received a new automobile from his brother as a pre-Christmas present. On Christmas Eve, when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it. “Is this your car, mister?” he asked.
Paul nodded. “My brother gave it to me for Christmas.”
The boy looked astounded. “You mean your brother gave it to you, and it didn’t cost you nothing?” Boy, I wish . . . .”
He hesitated, and Paul knew what he was going to wish. He was going to wish he had a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul all the way down to his heels. “I wish,” the boy went on, “that I could be a brother like that.”
Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively asked, “Would you like to ride in my automobile?”
“Oh, yes! I’d love that!”
After a short ride, the urchin turned, and with his eyes aglow, said, “Mister, would you mind driving in front of my house?”
Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbors that he could ride in a big automobile.
But Paul was wrong again.
“Will you stop right where those two steps are?” the boy asked.
He ran up the steps. Then, in a little while, Paul heard him coming back, but he was not coming fast.
He was carrying his little polio-crippled brother. He sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against him and pointed to the car.
“There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him for Christmas, and it didn’t cost him a cent. And someday, I’m gonna give you one just like it. Then you can see for yourself all the pretty things in the Christmas windows that I’ve been trying to tell you about.”
Paul got out and lifted the little lad to the front seat of his car. The shining-eyed brother climbed in beside him and the three of them began a memorable holiday ride.
That Christmas Eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant when He said, “There is more happiness in giving.” –C. Roy Angell
Mixed Motives
Sometimes our generosity comes from mixed motives. It seems that some vandals had cut down six royal palms along Miami’s Flagler Street. Since the palms were very expensive, Dade County authorities weren’t sure if they could replace them very soon. But then someone donated six more and even had them planted. The old ones had been about fifteen feet tall and provided a nice foreground for a “Fly Delta” billboard. The new palms are thirty-five feet tall—completely hiding the sign. The new donor: Eastern Airlines.
Special Sale Price
One afternoon, three children, two boys and a girl, entered a flower shop. They were about nine or ten years old, raggedly dressed, but at this moment well-scrubbed. One of the boys took off his cap and gazed around the store somewhat doubtfully, then came up to the person who owned the store and said, “Sir, we’d like something in yellow flowers.”
There was something in their tense nervous manner that made the man think that this was a very special occasion. He showed them some inexpensive yellow spring flowers. The boy who was the spokesman for the group shook his head. “I think we’d like something better than that.”
The man asked, “Do they have to be yellow?” The boy answered, “Yes, sir. You see, Mickey would like ’em better if they were yellow. He had a yellow sweater. I guess he’d like yellow better than any other color.”
The man asked, “Are they for his funeral?”
The boy nodded, suddenly choking up. The little girl was desperately struggling to keep back the tears. “She’s his sister,” the boy said. “He was a swell kid. A truck hit him while he was playing in the street.” His lips were trembling now. The other boy entered the conversation. “Us kids in his block took up a collection. We got eighteen cents. Would roses cost an awful lot, sir—yellow roses, I mean?”
The man smiled. “It just happens that I have some nice yellow roses here that I’m offering special today for eighteen cents a dozen.” The man pointed to the flower case.
“Gee, those would be swell! Yes, Mickey’d sure like those.”
The man said, “I’ll make up a nice spray with ferns and ribbons. Where do you want me to send them?”
One of the boys responded, “Would it be all right, mister, if we took them with us? We’d kind of like to—you know—give ’em to Mickey ourselves. He’d like it better that way.”
The florist fixed the spray of flowers and accepted the eighteen cents gravely and watched the youngsters trudge out of the store. And he felt within his heart the warm glow of the presence of God, for he had remembered anew the meaning of the words of Jesus, “Even as you have done it unto one of the little ones, you have done it unto Me.”
Real Power
Giving is the highest expression of potency. –Erich Fromm
The Gift of Christmas
I was visiting an elderly woman recently. While there, she asked me to get a box of letters from her drawer. As I was getting the letters, I saw a beautiful quilt in the drawer. When I asked about the quilt, she said I could take it out and look at it. What a masterpiece! She told me her grandmother had made the quilt as a wedding gift years before. When I asked her why she did not have it on her bed, she said, “Oh, it’s too beautiful to use.” I thought it sad that she felt her gift was better hidden in a drawer—preserved–rather than used. God have humanity a beautiful gift, the most beautiful gift in the world. Do we consider this gift something that should be tucked away in a drawer, “too beautiful to use?”
An Assortment of Givers
There are three kinds of givers—the flint, the sponge, and the honeycomb. To get anything out of a flint, you must hammer it. And then you get only chips and sparks. To get water out of a sponge, you must squeeze it, and the more you use pressure, the more you will get. But the honeycomb just overflows with its own sweetness. Which kind of giver are you?
The Surrounding Master
A mother, wishing to encourage her young son’s progress at the piano, bought tickets for a Pederewski performance. When the night arrived, they found their seats near the front of the concert hall and eyed the majestic Steinway waiting on stage. Soon the mother found a friend to talk to, and the boy slipped away. When eight o’clock arrived, the spotlights came on, the audience quieted, and only then did they notice the boy up on the bench, innocently picking out, “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” His mother gasped, but before she could retrieve her son, the master appeared on the stage and quickly moved to the keyboard. He whispered to the boy, “Don’t quit—keep playing.” Leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around the other side, encircling the child, to add a running obbligato. Together, the old master and the young novice held the crowd mesmerized. In our lives, unpolished though we may be, it is the Master who surrounds us and whispers in our ear, time and again, “Don’t quit—keep playing.” And as we do, he augments and supplements until a work of amazing beauty is created. –Darrel L. Anderson
Enough Is Enough
It had been a hard winter in the Appalachian area. The snow had piled up deeper and deeper, the mercury dropped, rivers froze, people suffered. The Red Cross used helicopters to fly in supplies. One crew had been working day after day—long hours. They were on their way home late in the afternoon, when they saw a little cabin submerged in the snow. There was a thin whisper of smoke coming from the chimney. The rescue team figured they were probably about out of food, fuel, perhaps medicine. Because of the trees they had to put the helicopter down a mile away. They put on heavy packs with emergency supplies, trudged through heavy snow, waist deep, reached the cabin exhausted, panting, perspiring. They pounded on the door. A thin, gaunt mountain woman opened the door and the lead man gasped, “We’re from the Red Cross.” She was silent for a moment and then she said, “It’s been a hard winter, Sonny, I just don’t think we can give anything this year.”
The Seven Levels of Giving
- Giving to the poor, but with bad grace.
- Giving with a good grace, but not enough.
- Giving enough, but only after being asked.
- Giving without being asked.
- Giving without knowing who will benefit from the gift.
- Giving without the beneficiary of the gift knowing who is helping him.
- Fighting poverty by giving the poor person the means to escape from his condition.
Cheap Giving
The world’s stingiest man went Christmas shopping, but everything he saw was too expensive, except a $50 vase that was on sale for $2 because the handle had been broken off. He bought it and had the salesman ship it by mail so that his friend would think he had paid $50 for it and that it had been broken in shipment. A week after Christmas, he received a thank you note from his friend. “Thank you for the lovely vase,” his letter said. “It was so nice of you to wrap each piece separately.”
Who’s Sharing What with Whom?
A woman was out shopping one day and decided to stop for a cup of coffee. She bought a bag of cookies, put them into her purse, and then entered a coffee shop. All the tables were filled, except for one at which a man say reading a newspaper. Seating herself in the opposite chair, she opened her purse, took out a magazine, and began reading.
After a while, she looked up and reached for a cookie, only to see the man across from her also taking a cookie. She glared at him; he just smiled at her, and she resumed her reading.
Moments later she reached for another cookie, just as the man also took one. Now feeling quite angry, she started at the one remaining cookie—whereupon the man reached over, broke the cookie in half and offered her a piece. She grabbed it and stuffed it into her mouth as the man smiled at her again, rose, and left.
The woman was really steaming as she angrily opened her purse, her coffee break now ruined, and put her magazine away. And there was her bag of cookies, unopened. All along, she’d unknowingly been helping herself to the cookies belonging to the man she had shared the table with.
Making a Life
We make a living by what we get out of life, but we make a life by what we give.
The Gift Is in Your Hand
Anthony Campolo, sociology professor at Eastern Baptist College and popular speaker, told of his experience one year at a Women’s Conference where he was making a major address. At the point in the program when the women were being challenged with a several thousand dollar goal for their mission projects, the chairperson for the day turned to Dr. Campolo and asked him if he would pray for God’s blessing upon the women as they considered what they might do to achieve the goal. To her utter surprise, Dr. Campolo came to the podium and graciously declined her invitation. “You already have the resources necessary to complete this mission project right here within this room,” he continued. “It would be inappropriate to ask for God’s blessing, when God has already blessed you with abundance and the means to achieve this goal. The necessary gifts are in your hands. As soon as we take the offering and underwrite this mission project, we will thank God for freeing us to be the generous, responsible, and accountable stewards that we are called to be as Christian disciples.” When the offering was taken, the mission challenge was oversubscribed, and Dr. Campolo led a joyous prayer of thanksgiving for God’s abundant blessings and for the faithful stewardship of God’s people.
What You Don’t Know
A favorite story is of a man of substance approached to contribute to a major financial campaign. The urgent need and compelling case were stated, and the call was made for his support. The man responded: “I understand why you think I can give fifty thousand dollars. I am a man with my own business and, it is true, I have all the signs of affluence. But there are some things you don’t know. Did you know that my mother is in an expensive nursing home?” Well, no, we didn’t know. “Did you know also that my brother died and left a family of five and had almost no insurance?” No, we didn’t know. “Did you know my son is deeply religious, has gone into social work, and makes less than the national poverty level to meet the needs of his family?” No, we didn’t know. “Well, then, if I don’t give any of them a penny, why do you think I’ll give it to you?” –Donald E. Messer
A Diamond and the Fullness of Strength
The Koh-i-noor diamond is among the most spectacular in the world. Queen Victoria received it as a gift from a maharajah when he was a lad. Later as a grown man, this maharajah visited Queen Victoria again. He requested that the stone be brought from the Tower of London to Buckingham Palace. The maharajah took the diamond and, kneeling before the Queen, gave it back to her, saying, “Your Majesty, I gave this jewel when I was a child, too young to know what I was doing. I want to give it to you again in the fullness of my strength, with all of my heart and affection, and gratitude, now and forever, fully realizing all that I do.”
As believers in Jesus Christ, we need to reiterate those words offering again our lives to Jesus Christ: “I want to give You back my life, Lord Jesus, that I gave You several years ago. I want to give it again to You with gratitude, fully cognizant of all that I am doing.”
Heart Disease
If you haven’t got any charity in your heart, you have the worst kind of heart trouble. –Bob Hope
Helping Yourself
It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself. –Ralph Waldo Emerson
Joy of Giving
Author Thomas Carlyle tells how, when he was a boy, a beggar came to the door. His parents were out and he was alone in the house. On a boyish impulse, he broke into his own savings bank and gave the beggar all that was in it, and he tells us that never before or since did he know such sheer happiness as came to him in that moment. There is indeed joy in giving,
Seven Ways to Give
- The Careless Way: To give something to every cause that is presented, without inquiring into it merits.
- The Impulsive Way: To give from impulse—as much and as often as love and pity and sensibility prompt.
- The Lazy Way: To make a special offer to earn money for worthy projects by fairs, bazaars, etc.
- The Self-Denying Way: To save the cost of luxuries and apply them to purposes of religion and charity. This may lead to asceticism and self-complacence.
- The Systematic Way: To lay aside as an offering to God a definite portion of our gains—one tenth, one fifth, one third, or one half (rich or poor can follow this plan).
- The Equal Way: To give God and the needy just as much as we spend on ourselves.
- The Heroic Way: To limit our own expenditures to a certain sum and give all the rest of our income.
Receiving Honor
No man was ever honored for what he received. Honor is the reward for what he gave.