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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