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He brought me his son’s letter to Santa and asked me to read it. I was so touched I couldn’t speak well. My friend is an inspiration to me and I doubt he knows how much his life touches my own. He is a widower raising his young boy alone and his story is gut wrenching and I know only a tiny fraction about it.
He shared with me how he was going to take his son to a midnight service on Christmas eve and then let him open some gifts when they got home. His son had told him, “daddy I know we can’t afford…..” I could barely meet his eyes as they began to tear. He said his son was so special and sensitive; he was okay with not having much.
As he held his son’s letter to Santa, this father made sure I knew he taught his son all good things come from God. When he looked at me and told me his son also knew God’s goodness flowed through me, I was humbled. There was nothing I could say of any worth. I hugged this man and murmured something about how I hoped he’d have a wonderful evening with his son.
Inside I felt smaller still. Not like I wasn’t worth anything, but like I hadn’t done anything to deserve this man’s sharing of his heart. What he was sharing felt so intimate and personal. I look around my house and see how much I have been given. My heart is joyous. An opportunity has been given to me and I won’t let it pass without taking advantage to do an act of kindness. If I was a conduit than it only seemed right this young man see God’s generous and abundant nature.