The Christmas Secret

By Louise H. Hall

The crumpled newspaper ad boldly stated the fact: “$169.97 plus tax.” The two older boys would finally purchase the biggest Christmas secret the four young children had ever kept from their parents.

The secret began months earlier, but it wasn’t until the Sunday after Thanksgiving I became an accomplice. Around 9 p.m. I received the whispered phone call.

“Nam, would you take me and Scott to Fred Meyer next Saturday?”

It was 12-year-old Lee inviting me into their scheme. They needed a car and a driver. Who better to ask than their grandmother?

The following Friday, I received my second phone call. I assured the young collaborators I would pick them up at the appointed time. I renewed my pledge of secrecy.

Months earlier, the four children did odd jobs to earn enough money for their grand gift. That’s a daunting task for children ages 12, 10, 8 and 6 years old. The older boys mowed lawns and baby sat. The two younger children collected aluminum cans and diligently saved their pennies. All saved birthday money and allowances.

Finally, the day of accounting came. Eight-year-old Andrea contributed $32.00 and 6-year-old Doug added $19.00. Neither were paltry sums, considering how enticing birthday money is when it is crisp and new.

On Thanksgiving Day, the children huddled over the voluminous newspaper ads and waded through all of the options. Finally, the four youngsters found the gift they dreamed of. The months of earning, saving, counting and whispering were finally coming to a conclusion!

As promised, Saturday afternoon I picked up the two boys. As they jumped into the car, they proudly thrust the crinkled newspaper ad in my face. While focusing my eyes, I amazingly queried, “Do you kids really have $169.97?”

“Yep!” came the dual reply, “and we even have enough for tax!”

We arrived at the store and the boys immediately found the exact item they wanted. A salesperson focused her attention on me. To her, my two young companions were only secondary.

I turned her attention to the boys and said, “They are making the purchase. Not me.”

At first, she didn’t seem to understand, and she continued to promote the more expensive model to me. After another gentle reminder, she realized the two young boys were making the purchase. They were using their own money. And it was for their parents.

I watched the quota-minded sales lady soften into an understanding individual who was astonished that these two young boys were more focused on buying a secret gift for their parents than calculating how many gifts they could get for themselves. She gave them full attention and taught them all the fundamentals of their secret gift.

As the two boys walked confidently to the check-out counter, I walked ahead of them and turned and watched 12-year-old Lee hand the clerk the crumpled wad of bills. As the clerk carefully arranged and counted the money, I wondered how long before the lengthy line of serious-faced Christmas shoppers would become disgruntled.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to find the salesperson.

“I have to tell you something. Those boys have made my Christmas. This is the nicest experience I’ve had all season. Imagine being so unselfish!”

As her feelings tumbled out, the impatient attitude of the people in line melted away. They became interested and involved. I could see two husky men smile as they realized what was happening. Other shoppers joined in. The rigid line became a semi-circle around the boys.

The unorganized money required counting four times. Several people joined in and nodded as they repeated, “Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty,” until all collectively arrived at $181.00. A cheering section for the home team!

The cashier handed Lee the receipt and 59 cents change. The group applauded and cheered. As we left the store, Lee threw the 59 cents into the Salvation Army kettle.

Christmas Day arrived. Their grandfather and I were invited to share of the joy of opening the gift. Armed with video camera, we were escorted to the boys’ bedroom where the surprise would take place.

Previously, the children instructed Mom and Dad to leave the house for 10 minutes. When they returned, they were to follow written clues. It was an old-fashioned treasure hunt!

Hearing the parents coming, we muffled our giggles of anticipation. The door opened, and the children jumped from behind the bed and boomed, “Surprise!” After admiring the unique wrapping, Mom and Dad opened the gift. They were shocked and thrilled at the same time. But mostly they were grateful.

It was more than a new vacuum cleaner. It verified that life’s lessons taught by loving parents were being incorporated into the lives of their children.

Although the snow of Christmas 1988 melted into spring, the thoughts of four young children saving and sacrificing for their parents comes often to my mind and to my heart. In future years, the vacuum cleaner will be worn out. But I will always remember the surprised salesperson, the cheering shoppers, the giggling children and the grateful parents. And I will rejoice in the warmth of love radiating in the faces of family members. This special Christmas secret dreamed and accomplished by four unselfish little children is the Christmas I remember best.