True Generosity
By Elizabeth Cobb
When a tornado touched down in a small town nearby,
many families were left devastated. Afterward, all the
local newspapers carried many human interest stories
featuring some of the families who suffered the hardest.
One Sunday, a particular picture especially touched me. A
young woman stood in front of a totally demolished mobile
home, an anguished expression twisting her features. A
young boy, seven or eight years old, stood at her side,
eyes downcast. Clutching at her skirt was a tiny girl who
stared into the camera, eyes wide with confusion and fear.
The article that accompanied the picture gave the clothing
sizes of each family member. With growing interest, I
noticed that their sizes closely matched ours. This would
be a good opportunity to teach my children to help those
less fortunate than themselves.
I taped the picture of the young family to our
refrigerator, explaining their plight to my seven-year-old
twins, Brad and Brett, and to three-year-old Meghan. "We
have so much, and these poor people now have nothing," I
said. "We'll share what we have with them."
I brought three large boxes down from the attic and
placed them on the living room floor. Meghan watched
solemnly as the boys and I filled one of the boxes with
canned goods and other nonperishable foods, soap and other
assorted toiletries. While I sorted through our clothes, I
encouraged the boys to go through their toys and donate
some of their less favorite things. Meghan watched quietly
as the boys piled up discarded toys and games. "I'll help
you find something for the little girl when I'm done with
this," I said.
The boys placed the toys they had chosen to donate
into one of the boxes while I filled the third box with
clothes. Meghan walked up with Lucy, her worn, faded,
frazzled, much-loved rag doll hugged tightly to her chest.
She paused in front of the box that held the toys, pressed
her round little face into Lucy's flat, painted-on-face,
gave her a final kiss, then laid her gently on top of the
other toys. "Oh, Honey," I said. "You don't have to give
Lucy. You love her so much."
Meghan nodded solemnly, eyes glistening with held-back
tears. "Lucy makes me happy, Mommy. Maybe she'll make
that other little girl happy, too."
Swallowing hard, I stared at Meghan for a long moment,
wondering how I could teach the boys the lesson she had
just taught me. For I suddenly realized that anyone can
give their cast-offs away. True generosity is giving that
which you cherish most. Honest benevolence is a three-
year-old offering a treasured, albeit shabby doll to a
little girl she doesn't know with the hope that it will
bring this child as much pleasure as it brought her.
I, who had wanted to teach, had been taught.
The boys had watched, open-mouthed, as their baby
sister placed her favorite doll in the box. Without a
word, Brad rose and went to his room. He came back
carrying one of his favorite action figures. He hesitated
briefly, clutching the toy, then looked over at Meghan and
placed it in the box next to Lucy. A slow smile spread
across Brett's face, then he jumped up, eyes twinkling as
he ran to retrieve some of his prized Matchbox cars.
Amazed, I realized that the boys had also recognized what
little Meghan's gesture meant. Swallowing back tears, I
pulled all three of them into my arms.
Taking the cue from my little one, I removed my old
tan jacket with the frayed cuffs from the box of clothes.
I replaced it with the new hunter green jacket that I had
found on sale last week. I hoped the young woman in the
picture would love it as much as I did.
By Elizabeth Cobb
When a tornado touched down in a small town nearby,
many families were left devastated. Afterward, all the
local newspapers carried many human interest stories
featuring some of the families who suffered the hardest.
One Sunday, a particular picture especially touched me. A
young woman stood in front of a totally demolished mobile
home, an anguished expression twisting her features. A
young boy, seven or eight years old, stood at her side,
eyes downcast. Clutching at her skirt was a tiny girl who
stared into the camera, eyes wide with confusion and fear.
The article that accompanied the picture gave the clothing
sizes of each family member. With growing interest, I
noticed that their sizes closely matched ours. This would
be a good opportunity to teach my children to help those
less fortunate than themselves.
I taped the picture of the young family to our
refrigerator, explaining their plight to my seven-year-old
twins, Brad and Brett, and to three-year-old Meghan. "We
have so much, and these poor people now have nothing," I
said. "We'll share what we have with them."
I brought three large boxes down from the attic and
placed them on the living room floor. Meghan watched
solemnly as the boys and I filled one of the boxes with
canned goods and other nonperishable foods, soap and other
assorted toiletries. While I sorted through our clothes, I
encouraged the boys to go through their toys and donate
some of their less favorite things. Meghan watched quietly
as the boys piled up discarded toys and games. "I'll help
you find something for the little girl when I'm done with
this," I said.
The boys placed the toys they had chosen to donate
into one of the boxes while I filled the third box with
clothes. Meghan walked up with Lucy, her worn, faded,
frazzled, much-loved rag doll hugged tightly to her chest.
She paused in front of the box that held the toys, pressed
her round little face into Lucy's flat, painted-on-face,
gave her a final kiss, then laid her gently on top of the
other toys. "Oh, Honey," I said. "You don't have to give
Lucy. You love her so much."
Meghan nodded solemnly, eyes glistening with held-back
tears. "Lucy makes me happy, Mommy. Maybe she'll make
that other little girl happy, too."
Swallowing hard, I stared at Meghan for a long moment,
wondering how I could teach the boys the lesson she had
just taught me. For I suddenly realized that anyone can
give their cast-offs away. True generosity is giving that
which you cherish most. Honest benevolence is a three-
year-old offering a treasured, albeit shabby doll to a
little girl she doesn't know with the hope that it will
bring this child as much pleasure as it brought her.
I, who had wanted to teach, had been taught.
The boys had watched, open-mouthed, as their baby
sister placed her favorite doll in the box. Without a
word, Brad rose and went to his room. He came back
carrying one of his favorite action figures. He hesitated
briefly, clutching the toy, then looked over at Meghan and
placed it in the box next to Lucy. A slow smile spread
across Brett's face, then he jumped up, eyes twinkling as
he ran to retrieve some of his prized Matchbox cars.
Amazed, I realized that the boys had also recognized what
little Meghan's gesture meant. Swallowing back tears, I
pulled all three of them into my arms.
Taking the cue from my little one, I removed my old
tan jacket with the frayed cuffs from the box of clothes.
I replaced it with the new hunter green jacket that I had
found on sale last week. I hoped the young woman in the
picture would love it as much as I did.
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