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."

~Author Unknown~