by Glenda Lee
Agape Home Healthcare
Community Service Coordinator

I love Christmas!  I love the hustle and bustle of shopping and the anticipation of the big day. For many years as my children were growing up, money was tight. I knew if I was going to give them a good Christmas, I was going to have to make some extra money. I cleaned houses, made pot plant hangers from rope, baby sat, and painted Christmas decorations on store windows. I didn’t know I had that talent until I saw a painting on a window and thought I could probably do a better job!  My little window painting business grew, and soon I had about 40 stores I decorated for Christmas for several years.

In between working part time at my church and taking care of our house, I managed to paint windows while my children were at school. My mother took care of the kids after school if I had a job to do and through the years she brought them to see me paint on several occasions.

One time in particular, mother brought my seven-year-old son to see me in the neighboring town.They had done a little Christmas shopping and Bryan had found the “perfect present” just for me! He had a firm grip on his bag, but ignoring his grandmother’s warning to be careful, Bryan opened the bag and pulled out the box. He opened the box and peered inside. He was so proud of the gift. But moments later he lost grip on the bag, the bottom of the box broke through and his gift fell to the ground and shattered. Bryan had bought me a beautiful iridescent blue fruit bowl that was scattered in pieces on the grocery store parking lot. The bowl along with Bryan’s little heart was broken. He was crying, angry and embarrassed. I was finished painting by this time and saw mom and Bryan standing in the parking lot. I raced over to my son but nothing I could say or do would console him. In his mind, he had ruined his surprise and my Christmas. Mom and Bryan left to go home and a little bit of my Christmas spirit seemed to leave too.

Christmas morning was filled with gifts from Santa and surprises for all. The biggest surprise came from a little blond haired boy when he handed me a box he had lovingly wrapped. Tears welled up in my eyes when I opened that box and saw a beautiful blue fruit bowl exactly like that one I had last seen shattered on the parking lot. Unknown to me, Bryan and his grandmother had found another bowl to replace the broken one. After all these years I can’t remember what anyone received that day, but I received a little Christmas spirit and a precious gift from my son-a blue bowl that still sits on my dining room table today.