A Christmas Story

Christmas is a time for stories. Each year at this time, there are new television specials telling feel-good tales spun in a way that's just enough different from last year's stories that we tune in to watch. At church, we tell and re-tell the first chapter of "the greatest story ever told." So today, I'm going to tell a story.

I received a wonderful surprise last Thursday--flowers from a young man who attends the high school where I work part-time. They were a mixed group, the kind you often seen in the refrigerated case in the grocery store, presented to me in a drinking glass. I found out later that the young man had carried them to school that way in his backpack, and by the time he got to school, all the water had sloshed out of the glass and drenched the contents of his backpack.

I first met Thomas* (name changed) a year and a half ago when I needed to reach some envelopes that were high on a shelf. He was with a group of freshmen milling outside my office door, waiting for their math class to begin in the room next to my office. He was the tallest, so I pointed at him and asked for his assistance. After the envelopes were retrieved, I offered Thomas some candy from the office "stash" as a reward for helping me. "No, ma'am," he said, "My grandma taught me that I shouldn't have to be rewarded for doing the right thing."

Since then, Thomas and I have been friends. He stops by my office every couple of weeks, just to see how I'm doing and to get a quick hug. I ask him the requisite adult questions--how are your grades, what extracurriculars are you involved in, how is work going. As we have become acquainted, I have passed along a number of Daniel's outgrown items--mostly books, as Thomas has a passion for reading. For whatever I have to offer--whether it's a few minutes of my time or some well-worn books--Thomas is always profusely thankful.

This is Thomas: Last spring, the school was donated some flats of spring flowers that were forgotten. As they were breathing their last, Thomas stumbled across them. He rushed to the school secretary to ask permission to revive them. For a week, he spent his time before and after school and during his lunch hour planting them in any bare spot of ground he could find, nurturing them and willing them to live.

I don't know why Thomas has such a tender spirit. He has reasons to be bitter and unhappy. His mother died when he was 10 years old. His father has never wanted to have anything to do with him. He lives with his grandma, whose health is failing, in part due to her tobacco addiction at four packs a day. After school, he goes home to an empty house because grandma doesn't get home from work until 8 p.m. He does his chores, he fixes their dinner, he gets his homework finished.

This month, Thomas was given the "Above And Beyond Award" as the sophomore with the most outstanding performance in the workplace. This is what his employer said about him: "Thomas is fantastic. He is always upbeat, friendly and provides outstanding service. He is constantly looking for extra tasks and is wholly focused on work when he is here." Even though I had nothing to do with it, I am so proud of Thomas.

Last Friday, the school secretary took Thomas to get the first Christmas tree he and his grandma will have since his mother died. Thomas's plan was to get the tree trimmed and hot cider ready by the time his grandma arrived home at eight. He was thrilled to be able to surprise her in this small way.

I am trying to learn from Thomas. He has a lot to teach me about joy, about grace, about tenderness, and about gratitude.

"... the joy of the LORD is your strength."
Nehemiah 8:10

--Leslie Porter