"Why did I come today?", I wondered. My feet ached almost as much as my head. My list contained names of several people who claimes they wanted nothing for Christmas, but I knew their feelings would be hurt if I didn't get them a gift.
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 check-out lines. I picked the shortest, but it looked to me as if it would mean at least a 20 minute wait.
In front of me were two small children, a boy about 5 and a younger girl. The boy wore a ragged coat and enormously large, tattered tennis shoes jutted far out in front of his much to short jeans. He clutched several crumpled dollar bills in his grimy hands.
The girls clothing resembled her brothers. Her head was a matted mass of curls. 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 stero system, the girl hummed along, off key but happily.
When we finally approached the check-out register, the girl carefully placed the shoes on the counter. She treated them as if 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 counter 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'll 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 in 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 who reminded me of the true spirit of giving.
