The Gift A little over a decade ago I was on the streets of San Francisco ministering to the homeless and runaways when we came upon two young ladies; let’s call them Sara and Jane. As we found out through conversation, the two girls were 17 and 15, born in Oregon, and had been on the streets for about two years. Their mother was an addict who had, it seemed, no desire to be a mother. One day when the girls arrived home, they found some of their possessions on the front steps and a note that said the following: “I have left, and I don’t want you anymore.” Fearing the foster care system and the possibility of separation, the girls from that time forward had been on the street. For some reason (at the time unknown to me), I felt compelled to make the youngest girl a balloon animal, yes, I said a balloon animal, a puppy to be exact. As it began to take shape, the younger of the two watched with the most intensely blue eyes I had ever seen, eyes that now were beginning to sparkle with increasing intensity. Her face saddened and hardened by the world around her was now showing signs of joy, her frown slowly disappearing as the corner of her lips gradually strained upward, something obviously very unfamiliar to her. As I finished the gift and presented it to her, there was a reluctance to take hold; it was as if she feared the conditions which may be attached to her acceptance. Then, with the most innocent and childlike of voices, she broke out, “Sissy, can I have it?”. As the older of the two sisters looked me up and down, obviously looking for signs of wrongful intent, I interjected these words, “no strings attached.” With that, she nodded her head in approval. Her eyes now sparkled as bright as any star ever had, and her smile would melt the most hardened of hearts as she quickly grasped this simplest of gifts from a stranger. Oh yes, I made more and soon the older sister was taking hold of her own balloon flower as if it were a dozen red roses from a cherished friend. Before we parted, there were hugs all around, and the words of that young girl that will forever ring in my aging ears: “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you!” As we enter the winter holidays and as Easter soon approaches, my heart anguishes over the commercialization of these celebrations, how they have lost their true meaning. The endless struggles of the giving a gift that is good enough; one that will be accepted. I feel the pain of celebrations past when the gifts I had given didn’t seem to measure up to the expectations of those receiving them. I remember the pain of how all of my anguish and sacrifice to give the perfect gift had all too often somehow fallen short, and soon the gift was tossed aside. I know what it feels like to make the financial, physical, and mental sacrifices trying to make it all perfect for everyone: a task no parent or human can ever do-it is an unreal expectation. A few days later, I ran into Sara and Jane once again. We were greeted with enthusiastic smiles and twinkling eyes. The balloons had begun to fade, were now wrinkled, discolored, and losing their shape, so I offered to make new ones. “No, these will do fine sir, they are special to us.” You see, they appreciated the most humble of gifts; they treasured the heart and the love that came with the gift far more than they valued the material possession. I pray that this season we truly remember the heart behind the greatest of all gifts: the heart of God who sent His Son. We can write books, preach eloquent sermons, write moving songs, and make the most moving of performances, but if we lose sight of the greatest gift ever given, we will never satisfy the longing in the human heart and mind. No gift we could ever give will compare in any way! No greater price has ever been paid nor a gift of greater value ever given; yet, all to often, this great treasure has been neglected like the toys no longer played with. Now is as good a time as any to remember and remind others by bringing out this gift, dusting it off, and showing others its value; after all, now is truly the only time we have. The giving of the elaborate is a task that we should, I believe, depart from and not expect as a requirement any longer. No gift humans can ever give will say we love you enough to undo hurts or satisfy the human needs. May we focus our attention this season on the ultimate and enduring gift of Jesus; the only one who can truly bring Peace, Hope, Joy, and Love to a dying world. Gene Burroughs, Servant of God