Valuable Gifts

Toy building blocks; now I could make anything I could dream of, and I dreamed a lot
Personal electronics – the first calculators and portable radios appeared, and I had one!
My first car, a brand new one that I paid for in cash
The home, built to my specifications – with a fireplace!  MY home
Grown-up toys: the pool table, the organ, and all the books I want.

I valued highly all these things.  At one time, I thought them so important.

The big family around me: grandparents, aunts and uncles, and dozens of cousins
Mom and dad, sister and brother, and a variety of dogs, coming --- and going
A spouse
Friends of youth who will always be, and friends picked up along the way, a few precious ones
Friends discovered on the internet, never met, yet a meaningful part of my life
And strangers, who are there for reasons I sometimes don’t understand.

Life without other people is not life at all.

A safe and happy home, but despite good parents, MY mistakes along the way
The culture and its influences, smoking, drinking, and well … sin was easy back then
Good choices (parental influences) and bad (the “I know” of every teenager – and even adult)
The beginning subtle notice of God:  how “lucky” I was to not be in jail --- or dead
The wisdom that slowly comes with age --- built on the foundations laid by parents and Church
The blessed call of Mary to return to the Faith
JPII, saints, philosophers – teachers all who, with grace, helped me understand my purpose
Miracles, once amazing and startling, now so common and accepted

My Life, many always thought me as blessed, only of late do I know that I am.  What a gift!

When grandma died, I was in the sixth grade.  I secretly drank a little whiskey that night (as did my parents).  The anchor of the family passed, and it was a long time before I felt on solid ground again.
Death didn’t happen again for much of my life, or if it did it was far away, as I was
My brother was the first to go; a hole in my life, but a bigger one, I know, in my parents’
Then began a parade of fellow church-goers and friends.  Funerals replaced weddings as gathering points
Good friends, some from my youth, went home --- to God, I know
I speak to many of them, often.  I know they pray for me.  (I need it.)
Sis and dad seemed to leave on the same day, so close together.  And mom?

Death grows on you, and with wisdom -- and experience – you begin to see the value of this gift, too.

In the Scriptures
On the cross
In the Eucharist
On the altar
In my heart

The gift that made sense of all the others: Jesus, the Father’s gift to me. 

Late have I loved Thee …

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When we remember gifts, most often we think of wrapped boxes, or how we wondered at the contents, and when we showed our happiness (real or faked), and how sometimes we even felt a real joy at receiving something we strongly desired.  But there are some rarer gifts that we forget, and only remember in our heart, the love with which they were given.  They are the most precious.

My brother was born mentally retarded, as we used to say.  His whole life was a trial, and yet he found joy.  He had nowhere near the anxieties that you or I have in our lives.  He also had, as I perceived it then, nowhere near our blessings.  But now I’m not so sure.

There came a point in my teen years when my world was ending, or so I thought.  I remember vividly the sadness I felt as I sat on the couch staring off into space.  My parents perceived the change in my mood:  “What’s wrong,” they asked.  “Nothing,” I replied.  “I’m fine.”  But I recall that it was my brother, who could understand so little of worldly things, who perceived the depths of my sadness.  “Here, Tom,” he said, as he offered me his favorite toy and looked into my eyes.  I didn’t answer him, and we sat there on the couch, quietly, for a very long time.  He didn’t have much happiness in his life, by my standards, but my brother gave me the one thing he valued most that day, and asked nothing in return.

I’ll never forget that day, and his gift.  And I remember looking down at him holding onto my side and seeing him with new eyes.  “How wise you are, little brother,” I thought.  “And how much you love me.”

I will never forget my awareness of the depth of his gift, that day, and the deep love with which he gave it.  He gave me all he had.  For the longest time I think I valued that as the greatest gift I ever received.

Until that day I fully realized, God gave me His only Son.