Parable of the Shopper

I'm breaking my own rule here, since I don't do Christmas until after Thanksgiving, but I read a talk by Bishop Burton (which I will be adding to this blog, by the way) which he gave at Christmastime, and he quoted part of this story.  I liked it so much, I Googled it and am pasting it here for future reference:

The Parable of the Shopper

related by H. David Burton at a BYU fireside

A woman tells the story of what occurred on a bus:

I had been Christmas shopping all day long. When the bus finally arrived, it was packed with holiday shoppers in the same exhausted mood as I. I sank into the only vacant place, near the back, by a very handsome gentleman. He politely helped me to situate my packages and even held some of them himself.

After jovial conversation among the passengers, the gentleman began in a quiet, melodious voice, deepened with experience, to teach me a lesson that I have never forgotten. "Hear now the parable of the shopper. A woman went forth to shop, and as she shopped, she carefully planned . The hard-earned money was divided, and the many purchases were made with the pure joy and delight that is known only to the giver. Then the gifts were wrapped and placed lovingly under the tree."

"In eager anticipation she scanned each face as the gifts were opened."

"'What a lovely sweater,' said the eldest daughter, 'but I think I would prefer blue.'

"'Thank you for the cassette player, Mother. It's just what I've always wanted,' said her son. And then aside, secretly to his sister, he continued, "I told her I wanted the one with the automatic reverse and an extra speaker. I never get what I want!"

"The youngest child spoke out with the spoiled honesty of her age, 'I hate rag dolls! I wanted a china doll.'

"One gift still lay under the tree. The woman pointed it out to her husband. 'Your gift is still there.'

"'I'll open it when I have time,' he stated. 'I want to get this bike put together first.'"

"How sad it is," continued his soft, beautiful voice, "when gifts are not received in the same spirit they are given. To reject a thoughtful gift is to reject the loving sentiment of the giver himself. And yet, are we not all sometimes guilty of rejecting?"

He was not talking only to me, but to all of those on the bus . He took a present from my stack.

"This one," he said, holding it up and pretending to open the card, "could be to you."

He pointed to a rough-looking, teenage boy in a worn denim jacket and pretended to read the gift card.

"To you I give My life, lived perfectly, as an example so that you might see the pattern and live worthy to return and live with Me again. Merry Christmas from the Messiah.'

"The gift of example is a precious yet often rejected gift."

"This one," he said, holding up a pure, white present, "is for you." He held out the gift to a worn-looking woman, who in earlier years must have been a real beauty and was still attractive in her slim black skirt, black tights, and heels. She allowed her tears to slip without shame down her painted face.

"'My gift to you is repentance. This Christmas I wish you to know for certain that though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow, and I the Lord will remember them no more. Have a happy New Year. Signed, your Advocate with the Father.'

"Ah, repentance, something every Christian needs," said my seat mate.

"But that isn't all. No, here is a big, red package." He looked around the group and brought a ragged, unkempt, little child forward. "This big, red package would be for you if He were here. The card would say, 'On this Christmas and always, My gift to you is love. My love is pure! It is not dependent on what you do or what you look like. I love you as you have been, as you are now, and as you will be in the future. From your brother, Jesus.'"

"And this silver package to you, madam," he said with a bow to an aging grandmother two rows behind.
"Yes it would be for you, because you would appreciate it most of the time. His precious gift to you would be the gift of salvation. The surety that you will rise from the grave and live again with a perfect, resurrected body. The card would read, 'I give this precious gift freely to you and all men, by laying down My life for you. Signed, Your Saviour.'

"One final gift," said my seat mate. "The greatest of all the gifts of God. Eternal life! A chance to receive the same quality of life that Christ Himself lives. But though this gift is to all men, it must be assembled. He has given us the instructions. They are here in the scriptures." He tore off the paper to reveal a worn, well-used book . He stood up. He was leaving, making his way slowly down the aisle. He paused just as he reached the front and said, "One last gift. Peace! Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." [John 14:27] With those words, he was gone.

How we receive these gifts, these precious gifts from the Babe of Bethlehem, is the telling point. Are we exchangers? Is there really anything else we would rather have? Is there a feature missing? It is what we do with a gift long after we have opened it that shows our appreciation. Have we used it, worn it, displayed it, or cherished it? How does Christ feel when we don't even take time to use His gift of repentance, the one He purchased at such a great price? How sad it is when gifts are not received in the same spirit that they are given.

My First Post

I set this account up with the intent to post articles I read and to comment on them. Here's the first, from John A. Widtsoe of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles:

John A. Widtsoe, “The Gifts of Christmas,” Ensign, Dec 1972, 4

Christmas gifts should be in memory of the divine gift, the life of Jesus Christ. His gift gave us eternal life; our gifts should enliven with joy those who receive. His gift was the sacrifice of his earthly life; our gifts should represent personal sacrifices on our part.

It is easy to give to our own, those whom we love. Their gladness becomes our joy. We are not quite so ready to give to others, even if they are in need, for their happiness does not seem so necessary to our happiness. It appears yet more difficult to give to the Lord, for we are prone to believe that he must give and ask nothing in return.

We have foolishly reversed the proper order. Our first gift at Christmas should be to the Lord; next to the friend or stranger by our gate; then, surcharged with the effulgence from such giving, we would enhance the value of our gifts to our very own. A selfish gift leaves a scar upon the soul, and it is but half a gift.

How can we give to the Lord? What shall we give to him? Every kind word to our own, every help given them, is as a gift to God, whose chief concern is the welfare of his children. Every gentle deed to our neighbor, every kindness to the poor and suffering, is a gift to the Lord, before whom all mankind are equal. Every conformity to the Lord’s plan of salvation—and this is of first importance—is a direct gift to God, for thereby we fit ourselves more nearly for our divinely planned destiny.

The desire and the effort to give to the Lord, born of the surrender of man to the plan of salvation, stamp every Christmas gift with genuine value. They who identify themselves with the plan, who do not resist it, who earnestly seek to tread the path of the plan, are true givers to the Lord, and their gifts to men come with the flavor of heaven. The Lord and his plan must have place in our Christmas celebration.

Do we give intelligent obedience to the laws of the gospel obedience based upon sober study and trial of the practices of the Church? If our giving is without such obedience, it is away from the Lord, not toward him. Do we stand ready to sacrifice for the cause of the Lord in the unpaid services of the Church? That is, are our time, talents, and means at the disposal of those who administer the Lord’s work? Great is the gift from such a hand.

Do we look upon the progress of the purposes of the Lord, by feeble human instruments, through eyes of love? Love looks deep into the soul, beyond superficialities; the loving husband does not sense that age is stealing upon the sweetheart of his youth; the member who loves the Church dwells upon the likeness of man to God, forgets human imperfections, and does not find fault. These are tests of the higher, richer giving at Christmas. Obedience, sacrifice, love—once these tests have been met, the gifts of Christmas, small or great, become more pleasing to the Lord, by a subtle, spiritual sense, more acceptable to the recipient, and leave permanent joy with the giver.

Would it not be well this Christmas to give first to the Lord, directly through obedience, sacrifice, and love, and then to give to him indirectly through gifts to friends and those in need as well as to our own? Should we do this, perhaps many of us would discover a new Christmas joy. (The Improvement Era, vol. 38 [1935], p. 752.)

This has long been on my mind, and I have come to a realization of what the purpose of life really is. I've often heard that the selfish approach to life, looking out for number one, so to speak, does not bring the greatest happiness, and while I've accepted that as truth in theory, my life has not reflected it very well. However, I've come to know that it is true. My greatest joys come from blessing others' lives, all without thought of reward. We are helping three families for Christmas, anonymously. I'm sure we are spending more on these families than we are on our own family, but they will have a Merry Christmas as a result. This conversation needs to be continued and fleshed out....