Early on Christmas morning I was walking the dog when I noticed a person on the edge of a playing field, hunched up against the cold. I recognized the situation and, not having any money, went to a local bank and got some.
I walked up to the man and greeted him, noticing he had an exercise book open on his backpack. After some conversation, he said "Would you like to hear a poem I've written." I did...and it was lovely...about the morning sun kissing the earth.
I said I'd like to buy him breakfast but as I needed to be with my family would he allow me to prepay his bill. I slipped a $20 between his pen and the book. He was evidently grateful and said "Have a blessèd day!"
Later, when the children were ripping at their presents and their mother trying to restrain their craziness, My wife said "Grandad's got a Christmas story for you" and I reluctantly told the story. There was a silence, then my grandaughter said, "Good for you, Grandad." The message had been passed.
Then, on Boxing Day, listening to a friend complaining about her family at Christmas, I told her the same story when she said, "Oh my God, that reminds me" and proceeded to tell me a story that happened a few years ago when she met a young parent, in tears, and who was unable to give his children any kind of Christmas. She gave him the money she was going to spend on her extended family in LA and gave them cards instead, enscribed with her story...and they were actually delighted!
The next year, the little Hispanic family turned up at her house in Berkeley on Christmas Day with a present for her!
So, who gave what to whom?
I feel blessed.
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