How an unexpected gift reminded me of what matters most — Richard Kyte

A few days ago, a friend was shopping at a local dollar store, buying small items to place in gift boxes for children. Her church had given her a debit card with a $150 allowance, and she went through the aisles placing dozens of toys and school supplies in her cart, keeping a running amount in her head. When she got to the checkout, she told the clerk to stop when the total got close to her spending limit.

The clerk, a big rough-looking man, started scanning the items from the cart. “You sure have a lot of stuff here,” he observed. My friend explained what she was doing, that everything would go to children who do not get any other presents for Christmas. He smiled and kept scanning. When the register total came to just shy of $150, he paused. “What about those?” He pointed to the handful of things left in the cart. “That’s OK,” my friend said, “They can go back on the shelf.”

“I’ll pay for them,” he said. My friend objected at first, but the clerk was insistent. “I was one of those kids,” he explained. “My dad never got us presents for Christmas, and I don’t have any kids of my own.”

He scanned the rest of the items in the cart, then reached into his pocket, pulled out a crumpled wad of dollar bills, and paid the balance. Then he put everything into bags and placed them in her cart. “God bless you,” he said with a big smile.

“Every gift requires two freedoms,” wrote Peter Kreeft, “the giver’s and the receiver’s.” We must be careful to respect the privilege of giving, for it is in giving that we feel our own humanity most deeply.

As new technologies make life more convenient and automated, our interaction with strangers is declining every year. That might seem like a good idea to some, but the overall effect is to increase anxiety by depriving us of daily exercise in social skills, something necessary for a healthy democracy. It also removes opportunities for some of the greatest blessings in life — opportunities to give and to receive.

One of the great misfortunes of a prosperous society is that giving and receiving become transactional rather than relational. There is a class of people who deliver goods and services and a class of people who receive them. One group funds the local shelter and the soup kitchen; another group goes there to get housing and nourishment. There is the host and there is the guest.

Many less prosperous societies still follow the ancient practice of hospitality, which traditionally meant bringing the stranger into one’s home for shelter and sitting down for meals together. The result is that the guest and host get to know one another. It is not easy to say who benefits most, because both provide something needed by the other: the need to receive and the need to give.

This ancient practice of relational giving and receiving is retained in the rituals of gift exchange among family and friends during the holidays. It is a chance to remind one another of our interdependence.

Yet for those who have no one close with whom to celebrate the holidays, this time of year can be especially sad and lonely, not just because they receive no gifts but because they have nobody to whom to give. Their loneliness is a symptom of disconnection at a time of year when relationships with family, friends, and neighbors are lifted up and celebrated everywhere one turns.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. Every community is filled with people who need something, and the best way to be connected is to give. Churches have giving trees, schools and nursing homes need volunteers, local food shelves need donations, and just about everybody has a neighbor who could use a small box of cookies and a smile.

Every year I rewatch “It’s a Wonderful Life”. It is not only a great holiday movie; it just might be the best movie ever made. Watching it is to be reminded that the greatest contribution a person can make in life is to lovingly tend to the relationships where you are and that tending to those relationships is the work of a lifetime.

A pivotal moment in the movie comes shortly after George Bailey pulls Clarence out of an icy river. As they are drying off, Clarence explains that he is an angel sent to save him. George is understandably skeptical. “Save me!?” he responds. Clarence explains, “I knew if I were drowning, you’d try to save me, and that’s how I saved you.”

The gift Clarence gave to George was an opportunity to be useful when he thought the world would be better off without him. Like many of us, George overvalued the worth of his contributions and undervalued the worth of his presence.

Even those who have great needs can be raised up by an opportunity to give. It is through the mutuality of both giving and receiving that we experience the grace that shines upon every act of shared kindness.