The Gift of Forgiveness

Taking Matters into my Own Hands

About three days before Christmas, I was out collecting for my paper route.

It was fairly late, long after dark. It was snowing and very cold.

I went to the apartment building to find a customer who hadn’t paid me for nearly two months. She owed me seven dollars.

Much to my surprise, she was home.

She invited me in. Not only did she pay me, she gave me a dollar tip!

It was a windfall for me. I now had eight whole dollars.

A Christmas Tree Idea

What happened next was totally unplanned.

On the way home, I walked past a Christmas tree lot. Suddenly, the idea hit me.

The selection wasn’t very good because it was so close to the holiday. But there was this one real nice tree.

It had been a very expensive tree, and no one had bought it. Now it was so close to Christmas that the man was afraid no one would.

He wanted ten dollars for it. When I told him I only had eight, he said he might sell it for that.

I really didn’t want to spend the whole eight dollars on the tree. But it was so pretty that I finally agreed.

I dragged it all the way home, about a mile, I think. I tried hard not to damage it or break off any limbs.

The snow helped to cushion it. The tree was still in pretty good shape when I got home.

You can’t imagine how proud and excited I was.

I propped it up against the railing on our front porch and went in.

My heart was bursting as I announced that I had a surprise.

I got Mom and Dad to come to the front door. Then I switched on the porch light.

Surprise!!

“Where did you get that tree?” my mother exclaimed.

But it wasn’t the kind of exclamation that shows pleasure.

“I bought it up on Main Street. Isn’t it just the most perfect tree you ever saw?” I said. I tried to keep my excitement.

“Where did you get the money?” Her tone accused me. I began to realize this wasn’t going to turn out as I had planned.

“From my paper route.” Then I explained about the customer who had paid me.

“And you spent the whole eight dollars on this tree?” she exclaimed.

A Painful Response

She went into a long angry speech. She said it was stupid to spend my money on a dumb tree. In a few days, it would be thrown out and burned.

She told me how irresponsible I was. She said I was just like my dad, with all those foolish, romantic, noble ideas about fairy tales and happy endings.

Then she said it was time I grew up. I needed to learn some sense about real life, how to care for money, and how to spend it on things we needed.

She said I was going to end up in the poorhouse. She said I believed in stupid things like Christmas trees, things that didn’t amount to anything.

I Just Stood There

My mother had never talked to me like that before. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I felt awful and began to cry.

Finally, she reached out and snapped off the porch light.

“Leave it there,” she said. “Leave that tree there till it rots, so every time we see it, we’ll all be reminded of how stupid the men in this family are.”

Then she stormed up the stairs to her bedroom. We didn’t see her until the next day.

Dad and I brought the tree in and made a stand for it.

He got out the box of ornaments, and we decorated it as best as we could. But men aren’t too good at things like that. Besides, it wasn’t the same without mom.

There were a few presents under it by Christmas day. I can’t remember a single one of them. But Mom wouldn’t have anything to do with it.

It was the worst Christmas I ever had.

Fast Forward to Today

Judi and I married in August of 1963. Dad died on October 10 of that year.

Over the next eight years, we lived in many places. Mom sort of divided up the year. She either lived with my sister Jary or with us.

Christmas Eve in Wichita

In 1971, we were living in Wichita, Kansas. Lincoln was about seven, Brendan was three, and Kristen was a baby. Mom was staying with us during the holidays.

On Christmas Eve, I stayed up very late. I was alone with my thoughts. I moved between joy and sadness.

I began to think about my paper route, that tree, what my mother had said to me, and how Dad had tried to make things better.

I heard a noise in the kitchen and discovered it was mom. She couldn’t sleep either. She had gotten up to make herself a cup of hot tea, which was her remedy for just about everything.

As she waited for the water to boil, she walked into the living room and found me there. She saw my open Bible and asked what I was reading.

When I told her, she asked if I would read it to her, and I did.

The Truth Comes Out

When the kettle began to whistle, she went and made her tea. Then she came back, and we started to visit.

I told her how happy I was that she was with us for Christmas. I also said I wished Dad could have lived to see his grandchildren and enjoy this time. He had always loved Christmas so much.

It got very quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Do you remember that time on Twelve Mile Road when you bought that tree with your paper route money?”

“Yes,” I said, “I’ve just been thinking about it you know.”

A Mother’s Apology

She hesitated for a long moment. It seemed as though something had been bottled up deep inside her soul.

Finally, great tears started down her face. She cried, “Oh, son, please forgive me.”

“That time and that Christmas have been a burden on my heart for twenty-five years. I wish your dad were here so I could tell him how sorry I am for what I said.”

“Your dad was a good man. It hurts me to know that he went to his grave without ever hearing me say I was sorry for that night.”

“Nothing will ever make what I said right. But you need to know that your dad never did have any money sense.”

That was all too true.

“We were fighting all the time, though not in front of you. We were two months behind in our house payments. We had no money for groceries.”

“Your dad was talking about going back to Arkansas. That tree was the last straw. I took it all out on you.”

“It doesn’t make what I did right. But I hoped that someday, when you were older, you would understand.”

“I’ve wanted to say something for ever so long. I’m so glad it’s finally out.”

The Gift of Forgiveness

Well, we both cried a little and held each other. I forgave her. It wasn’t hard, you know.

Then we talked for a long time, and I did understand. I saw what I had never seen before.

The bitterness and sadness that had gathered in me for all those years slowly washed away.

It was marvelously simple.

The great gifts of this season, or any season, can’t be put under the tree. You can’t wear them, eat them, drive them, or play with them.

We spend so much time on the lesser gifts. Toys, sweaters, jewelry, the mint, anise and dill of Christmas.

Yet we spend so little time on the great gifts. Understanding, grace, peace and forgiveness.

It’s no wonder the holiday leaves us empty. When it’s over, the only reminders we have are the dirty dishes and the January bills.

The Great Gift

The great gifts are like the one gift, the gift that began it all back there in Bethlehem of Judea.

You can’t buy them. They’re not on anybody’s shopping list.

They come as He came, quietly, freely, unexpectedly. If you’re not careful, you’ll miss them entirely.