The Gift of the Magi
December 24-25, 2008
Luke 2:1-14
There are many Christmas stories. There is Scrooge and the Grinch and Rudolph and Frosty and, of course, the Little Drummer Boy. But one of my favorites is a short story by an American writer, O. Henry. It is called “The Gift of the Magi.” Now this story has been around for awhile. I remember reading it as a sophomore in high school. Many of you know it. But give me just a minute to refresh your memory.
It is a story about a young married couple, in their twenties, Jim and Della. They were very much in love, and they were very poor. The story begins on the day before Christmas with Della weeping, because she has no money with which to buy Jim’s Christmas present. She wants to buy him something wonderful. Then she has an idea. Her most valuable possession was her hair. It was lustrous and long, falling down to her waist. She realized that she could cut her hair and sell it to a wigmaker for money. She could then use the money to buy Jim’s Christmas present. That was exactly what she did. She took the money and purchased a very expensive platinum chain for Jim’s most valuable possession which was his pocket watch. She was somewhat worried about how he would react to her altered condition without her hair, but she combed back the little she had left and waited for him to return from work.
As he entered the small and poorly heated apartment, he was shocked. “Della,” he said, “your hair!” “Don’t get angry at me,” she said. “I cut it off and sold it to buy your Christmas present. It will grow back.” “But, Della, your hair!” “What’s the matter? Don’t you love me without my hair?” “Of course I do,” he said. He gave her a tender kiss. “But it does complicate your Christmas present.” And he handed her a small box. When she opened it, she squealed with delight. But then began to sob. The present that Jim bought her was a set of tortoise shell hair combs, which she could use to put up her glorious hair—the hair she no longer had. “They’re wonderful, Jim,” said Della, “and don’t worry. My hair will grow back. But look. Look what I bought for you for Christmas.” And with that, she held out the platinum watch chain. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “Well, quick, Jim. Take out your watch so we can see how they go together.” “I can’t do that,” said Jim, “because I sold my watch to buy the combs for your hair.”
O. Henry ends the story by saying, of all those who gave gifts that Christmas, the gift that this couple gave one another was the best. Of course, on one level it was a disaster, because they both received gifts that they could not use: hair combs for a woman without hair and a watch chain for a man with no watch. But on a deeper level, their gift exchange was the greatest of successes, because they gave to one another their most valuable possession. And that, of course, was the greatest gift of all.
Now this simple story points to a truth which I think we should all appreciate this Christmas. It is a strange truth, but an important one. It is this: the less that we have, the more we are able to give. When we give out of our abundance, out of our wealth, we can give expensive things. But they are really not that valuable. But when we give out of our poverty, then our gift is extremely valuable, because it makes the love with which we give so clear.
This truth is certainly reflected in today’s gospel. Mary and Joseph very much wanted to have more to give their newborn son: a safe home, a clean bed. But what they had was a stable and a manger. And yet the poverty of their condition made their love for the child even clearer. It was with that love that they welcomed into our world the Savior. The less we have, the more we can give. It is the secret of Christmas to recognize the value that only want can offer. Over the last few weeks I’ve talked to a number of families who told me that, because of the economic conditions, they were giving less gifts and smaller gifts this Christmas. But I hope that all of us recognize that less gifts does not mean less Christmas. The less we have, the clearer we can see, because we can recognize the love from which the gift comes. Therefore, it is my prayer for you this Christmas that you will be able to recognize how the most valuable gifts are the ones which are the hardest to give.
What might those gifts look like? Here are some examples. Laughter is a very difficult gift to give for someone who is grieving, for someone who has lost a loved one in death or tragedy. But that is what makes laughter such a wonderful gift to give and to receive. Kindness is a particularly difficult gift to offer to someone who has hurt us. But that is why the gift of kindness is so precious when it is offered and accepted in even a single word or gesture. Hope is so hard to muster when there is fear, fear about sickness or the future economic situation. But that is what makes even a single ounce of hope the best possible gift of all.
The less we have, the more we can give. The harder a gift is to give, the more valuable it is. All of us will give and receive many gifts this season. But I ask you not to measure them by the totals on your credit card. Measure them instead by the love that offers them. After all, it was through a child born in poverty that our salvation entered the world. And every gift given in poverty mirrors the quality of Christ’s love. The less we have, the easier it is to see the love. So look for love this Christmas. Look for it in the gifts that you give and in the gifts that you receive. And have a priceless Christmas.
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