The Gift

The Gift

This is for you, he said with a grin

Sliding the package toward me.

I grimaced as I saw the dirt on his hands,

But the look in his eyes tugged at my heart.

Thank you, I managed, as I took the parcel

Laying it quietly aside.

His eyes went moist with disappointment when he saw

That his offering did not make me smile

Like the other shiny packages.

A dull ache caught in my throat,

I felt a tear in the corner of my eye.

Shamed, I picked up the lumpy present,

So rough that it held no shape.

His eyes brightened as I pulled away the blue ribbon

Recycled from bits of old Christmas decorations.

Carefully removing the worn paper, I gasped

When I saw the cherry wood jewelry box.

Inside was a jewel, carved with his own small hands,

A piece of quartz saved, from the riverbank.

Kept safe in his secret place for many months,

Fashioned exquisitely into a heart shaped pendant.

The luster reflected in his brown eyes

Rivaled the magnificence of a priceless diamond.

Pennies, nickels, and dimes, scrounged and saved

From weeks of small chores

Patiently he had laid each tiny coin aside until

He could buy the simple chain and the wooden box.

Tears streamed silently down my face,

Glowing from warmth radiating from his little smile.

I’m not sure what hurt the most,

Shame for my sleeping heart,

Or the reality of the love this small child could have.

Sparkling tinsel and shiny bauble slipped from view

As tiny arms encircled my neck.

Merry Christmas from The PeaceWriter.

Peace and love to all.