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Moms View Message Board: Short Stories, Poetry and Articles : THE UNRECOGNIZED GIFT
It was snowing harder, and the car was definitely stuck. "I guess you'll have to stay here tonight," his parents said. Ed had taken me out for dinner. I'd wanted to stop in and wish his parents a merry Christmas, before he took me home. Now his car was deep in a snow drift at the end of the drive, and I was stranded at Ed's house on Christmas Eve. The house was very old. It had belonged to this family for many generations. Once beautiful and regal, it was now in desperate need of attention. Ed's parents were much older than mine. He was an only child, born late in their lives, and it was easy to see that the deep feelings they had for this son were not often visably returned. I guessed that he resented their age and felt the generation gap even more than most kids that age. I had often winced at the pain in their eyes as he turned his back to their love. We called my parents, explained the situation and promised to try again to get the car out in the morning. I was pretty glum. I wanted to be home with my family, in my own bed this special night. They found me a pair of Ed's outgrown pajamas and a safety pin to hold them up. His Mom lent me a robe and slippers, and showed me to the guest room to change out of my wet dress and shoes. They did their best to make me feel welcome. Downstairs, his mother suggested that we sing carols, and to my surprise, Ed agreed. We sang, sipped hot chocolate, and talked long into the night. I felt as if I had somehow stepped into a scene on a Victorian Christmas card. The snow blew around the old house, but the feeling of warmth and peace seemed to enclose us within. Ed didn't say one nasty word to his parents that Christmas Eve, and as we all said our good nights at the top of the stairs, he kissed them both and wished them a merry Christmas. When I awoke and looked out the guest room window, I could see that the snow had stopped, the sun was shining, and the plows had already cleared the road. After breakfast, Ed's mother handed me a small package. It was a book of Christmas carols that her mother had given to her when she was a child. I thanked her for her lovely gift, and for the warm hospitality they had shown me. I sadly wished for a gift to give in return. We were able to get the car out of the drive, and Ed took me home. I was glad to be back with my family to celebrate Christmas day. I lost track of Ed and his folks. Years later, when I was married, and had a family of my own, I was surprised to receive a card forwarded by my parents from Ed's mother. With the card was this note: and a girl in a red dress. You were homesick, I think, and sad that you didn't have a gift to give to us. I wanted you to know that on the night that you spent with us we received the greatest gift of all. Ed seemed to see us with new eyes (maybe yours). After so many angry words, his 'Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad,' were like a blessing. I think he saw how much you wanted to be with your parents that night, and how much you must love them. After that night we were much closer. We never had another Christmas together, as Ed was killed in Viet Nam the next year. Thank you for your gift of love." B. V. Dahlen ©
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