The Re-Gift of the Magi
Brett Tanner trudged up building #6722’s worn stairs and let himself into apartment 304. The aromas of cinnamon, brown sugar, and baking bread enveloped him, inciting salivating memories of his childhood. “Honey, I’m home,” he called.
He stowed his coat and passed through the minuscule living room, noting the two-foot Christmas tree with its homemade ornaments, and hugged his wife. “Jocelyn, I’m so glad to be home! I could hardly concentrate on the text books, wishing I was here with you. Is that Mom’s cinnamon roll recipe?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Of course! I wouldn’t tamper with perfection! Would you take it out of the oven for me?”
“Sure! You shouldn’t be bending over, Your Delicacy,” he said with his usual puckish expression.
“You men and your ‘delicate condition’ business!” she answered with mock annoyance. “I do lots of things you wouldn’t approve of while you’re off studying and working.”
He removed the tray of rolls and placed it on a hot pad on the tiny table. “I only have a little while before work. The Corner Pantry will be busy tonight, people getting odds and ends for tomorrow. But I’d rather spend Christmas Eve with you, Honey. I feel terrible having to leave!”
“Baby and I will be fine, Brett.” She patted her belly. We can have Christmas Eve any day we want. And it’s only 3 days until payday! I wish we could afford presents. Maybe —“
He interrupted her. “Don’t worry, Joss. A year from now I’ll be out of school and will be making tons of money. Tonight we have each other, a roof over our head, and now a batch of the best cinnamon rolls in the world! That makes a great Christmas!”
“Brett, I’m really concerned for Marbella, down the hall. She’s a single mother, trying to support her two kids, working two jobs. She scrimps and saves but never gets ahead. She’s been so nice to me, taking me to the doctor when you were in class, and being like a big sister to us. If only we could afford a gift for them…”
They lapsed into silence, trying to find a solution to the recurring problem. They glanced at the cooling cinnamon rolls, then their eyes locked on each other’s. Jocelyn’s face flushed.
“Last of the cinnamon?” he asked. “Last of the flour? Last of the butter and eggs?”
She nodded. “Last of everything. It’s your mother’s recipe, your favorite thing in all the world.” She fought back tears, a frequent problem since she had been in her Delicate Condition. “And I even borrowed the cooking oil from Marbella.” Brett handed her a tissue and put his arm around her shoulders. “I know it’s too much to ask,” she said, “but…”
“… but we could give the rolls to Marbella and her kids,” he finished. “I think it’s a great idea, Joss, and since it’s sort of a sacrifice, that makes it a super meaningful gift, right? Let’s make a card!”
They made a Christmas card out of a blank sheet of paper, thanking Marbella for her kindness, her friendship, and for all she had contributed to their little family. Jocelyne wrapped the disposable pan of rolls in plastic wrap and tied a piece of red ribbon around it, but the bow was slightly off-center. No matter! Marbella would see the rolls, not the bow. They were off on a Christmas Errand!
Marbella was touched by the gesture, and hugged them both, her gratitude condensing into flowing tears. “Y’all are such dear friends!” she exclaimed. “Thank you for thinking of us on Christmas Eve. I wish I had something to give to y’all,” she said, her words trailing off.
“Don’t worry about it,” Brett said. “We just wanted to do something for you and your kids.”
They had only gone a few steps down the hall when Marbella burst out of her door. “Wait! I do have something for you! We just got a box of cookies from my momma today!” She handed them a festive tin box of cookies.
“Oh, we couldn’t,” Jocelyn and Brett said, almost together. “Those cookies are meant for you and your kids.”
“But Jocelyn, that’s what makes a gift good, that it means something to me, just like your rolls mean something to you!”
They couldn’t refute such an eloquent argument. With mutual expressions of gratitude, Jocelyn and Brett walked back to their apartment.
“I feel good about taking a gift to Marbella,” Brett said, “but I feel a bad about taking her cookies.”
“So do I,” Jocelyn said. They sat at their small kitchen table, the tin of cookies between them.
“You know,” Brett said after a minute, “it’d be more rewarding to take these cookies to someone than to indulge our own sweet tooth. I’ve been thinking of Mr. Jasper down in 102. Remember how he helped me with the car last month? I don’t think I thanked him very well–I was in such a hurry to get it running and head off to work. What say we take these cookies down to him.”
“Let’s do it!” Jocelyn said. “Hand me the paper and markers!”
Brett and Jocelyn took the cookies and another card for Mr. Jasper. He broke into a wide smile, and insisted that they take a small box of chocolates he had received from a friend.
Brett and Jocelyn again repaired to their apartment, and decided to take the chocolates and another card to Ralph and Edna, the older couple in # 201.
The threadbare halls of #6722 had come alive in the last while. Residents greeted each other with smiles, talked in lowered voices, and smiled as they knocked on their neighbors’ doors.
Edna answered the door warily, then smiled. “It’s nice to have visitors, even if it’s only for a minute. Ralph’s in bed with a cold, and we haven’t gotten out for a couple of weeks.” They presented the box of chocolates, and Edna thanked them sincerely. “All I have is this fudge,” she said, “but we can’t eat anything this rich. Will you please take it?”
Back in their apartment, Brett said, “Joss, this is the best Christmas Eve ever! But I need to leave soon, so we’ve only got time for one more card.
“OK, Honey. Baby and I can manage one more trip down the stairs. Let’s take the fudge to Maria below us in 204. Roberto’s on night shift, so she’s alone with her newborn.” They made another card for Maria and Roberto, descended the stairs to Maria’s apartment, and knocked on the door.
Maria opened the door with a big smile. “Oh, Jocelyn! Brett! Feliz Navidad!”
“Maria, we brought you some fudge. Won’t you please take it as a small Christmas present from us?” Jocelyn said. “We can’t come in—Brett needs to leave for work in a few minutes.”
“Thanks for the sweet gift–literally!” she giggled. “And I have something for you, too. It’s too much for us to eat,” Maria explained. She handed them a large paper shopping bag. Jocelyn glanced in the bag and they slowly ascended the stairs, Jocelyn leaning tiredly on Brett’s arm for support.
Back in 304, Brett noticed her strange smile. “What’s with the cat and canary expression, Joss?”
“Honey, it’s been great fun taking presents around and spreading a feeling of cheer in the apartments. It feels like the right thing to do. I was just thinking that when we give from the heart, God magnifies it and returns it to us in His own way.”
“Oh yes, Joss, I agree! I feel God has returned kindness to us tonight.”
She paused. “Well, I meant that God sometimes returns the blessing literally.” And she opened the paper bag to show him a tray of cinnamon rolls, wrapped in plastic and a red ribbon, with the bow slightly off-center. “Today we get to give away our bread and eat it, too,” she said with a lopsided smile.
Several miracles occurred in aging apartment building 6722 that night:
Each of the twelve apartments gave a gift from the heart.
Each of the twelve apartments received a gift from the heart.
And Brett and Jocelyn experienced their own memorable miracle of magnifying a tray of cinnamon rolls that figuratively fed, if not 5,000, at least a dozen souls.
