By Sister Karen Zielinski, OSF


I never thought I would feel this way, but the gifts that have moved me (almost to tears) are gifts from the heart.  My elderly neighbor, Alex, opens the door to my building when he sees me coming home.  I use an electric cart because of my Multiple Sclerosis and he comes out and opens two doors for me. 

Actually, it is easier if I do it myself, but how could I deny his gift to me? 

His thoughtfulness touches me.  Another neighbor, Helen, gives me her homemade bread crumbs.  Every so often she asks, “Need any bread crumbs?”  I always accept them—and then I use them in some recipe.  What touches me about these gifts is that they come from the person’s heart—they are from their heart to mine.

Don’t get me wrong.  I like gifts.  I enjoy a candle for my prayer corner, scented lotions and books, but the gifts from my Alexes and Helens really are given to me.  Person-to-person.  Their gifts remind me of the Little Drummer Boy:

“Come, they told me…

I have no gifts to bring…

Shall I play for him?”

Each time I hear the Little Drummer Boy song, I give thanks to God for the profound yet simple gifts my neighbors gave me.   Simple heartfelt gifts are countercultural, a gift exchange which can’t be beat.

As we prayerfully sing “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”, let us sincerely prepare to receive the Child Jesus into our hearts and lives by opening wide the Alex-doors of generosity and setting tables with Helen-breads of peace and love.