by Jill Pritchard-Wilson

It was Christmas morning at our home and three year-old granddaughter, Alison, watched wide-eyed as each family member opened gifts—taking turns as was the family custom. Little sister Kimberly was equally enchanted with the wonderment of the occasion, mimicking Alison’s every expression.

Alison chose her first gift, a tiny package from her uncle Scott. To her infinite delight it was a bag of foil-wrapped chocolate “coins.” Well-disciplined by her nutrition-conscious parents not to overindulge in sweets, she carefully tucked the coins in her pocket where they would remain until a special treat time determined by Mother.

The next evening we all went to a local restaurant. As we finished our meal, I noticed that Alison was especially quiet. I realized she was industriously tearing her paper napkin into small squares. She then withdrew the little bag of coins and carefully wrapped each coin—all but one—in a square (the one saved was understandably for Alison). Finally, she proudly announced that it was her turn to be the giver.

The first tiny present went to Uncle Scott who feigned surprise at the contents. The presentation continued to Stuart, Kristin, her mom and dad, and Papop (grandpa). Suddenly, a look of alarm and dismay flashed across her face as she discovered she was one gift short. She looked at me then at the unwrapped piece she had saved for herself. Without a word, she tore off another piece of paper and with her hands held beneath the table top so that no one could see, she carefully wrapped the silver dollar-sized chocolate coin. “Here Grandy” she said, “Here is your Christmas present.”

The little gold coin rests on my desk where it will remain a daily reminder of the true spirit of Christmas. It was the most precious gift I received that Christmas.