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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 something. 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 twenty minute wait. In front of me were
two small children, a boy about five 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 six dollars and nine cents," 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 three dollars 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.
'Tis the Season!
Remember that it's better to give than receive.
( Author:Unknown)
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