The Gift

Nora was on her morning walk, the same one she always took, and in the same dower mood she was usually in, when an old woman stopped her, and said, “I have something for you, a gift.” Nora had never seen her before. She was holding a box and handed it to Nora. Nora couldn’t remember the last time anybody had given her a gift, not to mention a perfect stranger. But the old woman didn’t seem dangerous, so Nora took the box and said, “Thank You.” The old woman did not reply. She just walked, slowly, silently, away. 

Nora looked at the gift. It was a small gift, but it was meticulously wrapped in silver paper and decorated with a pink bow that opened in numerous petals. 

When Nora got home, she opened the gift, being careful not to rip the silver wrapping paper or damage the pink bow. She looked for a card, but there wasn’t one, no indication of who had given her the gift. 

When the gift was finally opened, she stepped back in surprise. She would never have asked for this, and she never would have gotten it for herself. But, she felt it call to her. She looked at it for several minutes and finally picked it up and held it close to her chest. She felt a loving presence. It reminded her of how she had felt a long time ago, a feeling she had almost forgotten.

She kept the gift at her side for the rest of the day. It felt good, having the gift near her. It made her feel special. She slept with it that night. The next morning, she woke thinking it had all been a dream. That made her sad, because she had felt connected to the gift, and it was a nice feeling. She reached out on her bed and felt it. The gift. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. 

Nora didn’t want to take a chance on losing the gift. She had a shoulder bag in which the gift fit perfectly. She could take it with her shopping, on her walks, and when she visited her friends. People noticed that Nora seemed different now. For one thing, she was smiling. Most people had never seen Nora smile, even her friends. Several people remarked on how happy she seemed. Nora just thanked them. She didn’t tell anybody about the gift, because she felt it was special, just for her. If she ever felt anxious, or nervous, or scared, she would reach into her shoulder bag and touch the gift. Then she would relax again.

The new Nora was different from the old Nora. She no longer dreaded waking up. Now she looked forward to getting up, and being together with the gift. She would sip her coffee slowly, enjoying the moments, and feeling a special closeness to the gift. Apparently the new Nora was also more likable, because she now had a number of friends. 

For the next ten years, Nora’s life revolved around the gift. She still did her shopping and visited her increasingly large circle of friends, and always with her was her shoulder bag, and in it, the gift.

One day, she was again walking on the street, the street where ten years earlier she had received the gift. And there she saw the same old woman. The old woman walked up to Nora. Nora was about to thank her for the gift, when the old woman held a finger to her lips. In a cracked, ancient voice, the old woman said, “Now it is time to give it back.” 

Nora gasped. “No,” she said, “I can’t give it back.” Nora backed away and ran to her apartment. The thought of life without the gift was too painful to contemplate. When she finally settled down and started breathing normally again, she opened the shoulder bag to retrieve the gift. She needed to hold it, to feel it’s presence. But the bag was empty. The gift was gone.

Nora rushed back to the street to find the old woman. She saw her at the corner. Nora started shaking. “How,” she asked, “can you take the gift away from me? You are horrible! I wish you had never given it to me.” The old woman looked at her sadly. “Is that really what you want? To have never had the gift? I can give that to you, if that is what you want.”

Nora was at a loss. Life without the gift seemed unimaginable. But life without even the memories of the gift seemed so much worse. “No,” Nora said, “that isn’t what I want.” Nora felt tears forming and wetting her cheeks. The memories of the gift were special. She would now have to care for them and hold them close, as once she had held the gift itself.

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Spiritual questions:

• What gifts have you been given?
• Do you understand that they are on temporary loan?
  
• How are you appreciating them while you have them?

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January 21, 2021 - This was written with the Roundhouse Writing Group in Santa Cruz, Guatemala, remotely from Guanajuato, Mexico. The writing prompt for the  session was: It was a small gift, but it was meticulously wrapped.

This is one of my Parables for the Spiritual but not Religious Series.

The photograph is by FutUndBeidl and made available through Flickr and Creative Commons, some rights may be reserved.

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