Charity

“And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”  

(1 Corinthians 13:13) 

When I was about 11 years old, my mother was living in a nursing home because she was suffering from the effects of progressive Multiple Sclerosis, as well as having recently had a gran-mal seizure which left her unable to speak or walk.  During this period of time, my younger brother and I were frequently on our own at home because my father needed to work several jobs to help support our family.  It was oftentimes a very lonely and difficult time of my life, trying to just get by with what little we had.  Since my father had to pay a lot of medical bills, there was usually very little left over for anything new like clothes or shoes, or even very many groceries.  We got used to just doing our own thing, and eating lots of canned food (my favorite was Cream of Mushroom soup!) but it was so hard feeling like life was an endless dark struggle.

The Christmas season of 1986 came during this period of time, and I have to admit that it didn't feel much like Christmas that year.  I got out the few decorations that we had, and tried to make things festive; I even got a string of lights around our front living room window with a lot of nails, and a lot of patience!  It helped, but there was still a dark feeling that hung over us, and I didn't know how to make it go away.  I thought that maybe if I watched Christmas movies on TV that would help: it did, but only temporarily.  I tried singing my favorite Christmas songs, prodding my 9 year old brother to sing with me, but he didn't want to sing. My friends and other kids at school were chattering on every day about what they were getting for Christmas, and how happy it was going to be.  I couldn't share in their enthusiasm, because I didn't know what I could even ask for that Christmas, let alone something that I would be excited about getting.

One night as I sat in the dark watching TV, there was a knock at the door.  I was startled, because my Dad wasn't home, and this was Los Angeles--you never knew who might be lurking around outside.  I tentatively opened the door a crack, and saw a family standing on our doorstep that I didn't recognize.  Even though they were strangers to me, I didn't feel threatened because they had children with them, and were looking intently at me with big smiles on their faces.

I'm sure I must have looked surprised because the woman in the group (I assume it was the Mother) said in a friendly voice, “Hi! Are you Michelle?  We've just come by to bring you something!”  Confused, I said, “Ok...” and they asked if they could come in and drop some things off.  I opened the screen door, and in they came, full of happiness and life.  There was no snow outside, of course, because this was Southern California; but there was something about their presence that suddenly made it feel like Christmas.  They asked me a few things about myself, what grade I was in, if I liked my teacher...things like that; and then just as quickly as they came they went back out the front door, wishing me a Merry Christmas.

I didn't know what to think as I stared at the three cardboard boxes they had left in my living room.  Who were they?  How did they know?  I almost felt as though I must have been dreaming, because I didn't think that there was a single person on earth who knew how dark and lonely I was feeling that night, and how welcome it was to see some smiling faces and hear some kind words. 

As I started to look through the boxes, I noticed that there was a label on each one: Jeff, Michelle, and Food.  I started looking through the “Michelle” box, since it was obviously for me, and what I found there brought tears to my eyes.  There were several pairs of clothes that were neatly folded, as well as several little wrapped gifts.  I could tell that the clothing wasn't new, but it was nice and clean and in style (for 1986!).  It was also exactly my size, and I couldn't believe that not only did someone know that I wanted so much to have new cute clothes, but that they knew where I lived and what size I was!  I then moved to the little gift wrapped boxes, and even though I probably should have waited to open them until Christmas, I couldn't help myself:  I tore them open, feeling like today was Christmas Day, along with all the happiness, anticipation, and excitement that usually comes with that holiday.  Inside the boxes were pairs of earrings, necklaces, hair clips, and several little fun novelties that filled me with a happy glow.  I called my brother in to look at his things, and he had also received several pairs of clothes along with some “boy toys” that would excite a 9-year old boy. 

After the thrill of these presents, I moved to the food box, and found a variety of foods that we would be able to eat for Christmas.  There was a turkey, some potatoes, cranberry sauce, and a box of Stove Top stuffing.  I quickly filled our refrigerator and cupboards with the gifted food, and just felt like a beam of light had penetrated our little house, and filled everything with warmth and happiness and love.

I, of course, was too inexperienced in the ways of the world to know about “Sub for Santa”, or that we were obviously a recipient of this method of charity.  To me, it just felt like a miraculous blessing, and something that only God could have made happen.  As I have looked back on this experience, I have realized that even though this wasn't really a miracle, to me at that period of my life, it was.  It was something that I needed right at that moment to help give me hope, lift my spirits, and make me realize that there was still good in the world.  These people, whoever they were, were prompted to do this good deed through a spirit of Charity: the kind of love that Jesus Christ himself showed to those he came in contact with throughout his mortal life.  I don't know their hearts, or what their motivations were, but I do know this: I felt loved through their service; I felt like someone, somewhere knew about me and cared how I felt during this Christmas season; and most of all, I felt like God knew what I needed, and sent it at the time when it was needed most.

Since that time, I have struggled with many doubts and fears, ups and downs, and feelings that are many times not-so-charitable. But I have never forgotten the feelings that came as I was the receiver of someone else's generosity and kindness.  I have made it a major goal of my life to be filled with that kind of love: unselfish, given towards all no matter their station in life, and hopefully given freely with no thought of reward.  I know what light means when you are in the midst of darkness, and if I can do anything for anyone that shows them that there is love in this world, and that someone cares about them, then I will continue to strive for this best and highest gift; one which surpasses anything else we can ever attain, achieve, or desire in this life: the gift of Christ-like Charity.

When have you felt the gift of charity in your life? Have you been on the receiving end of a gift of charity?  Have you ever given service and felt this special kind of love?