Friday, August 9, 2013

The Giving Girl (a Birthday Story)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The Outlet Mall mentioned did open recently, but the author wisely stayed away.

Not that many years ago, on this very day, a beautiful young girl came into the world with an amazing and unique talent for giving.

Even as a small child, the girl always thought of others before herself. When playing with her dolls or blocks, she would happily push the toys toward any other child who entered the room. During lunch at school, she would always scan the room for other children with less to eat than her, and offer to share what she had. When waiting in line, she would gladly step aside to let others go ahead of her (except in vaccination lines, where she would bravely go first).

As she grew, her innate generosity endeared her to everyone she met. Her family loved her dearly of course, because that's the way it always is with families, but so too did everyone else upon whom her constant attention to needs and wants was devoted. This deep connection with so many others and the delight she always felt in giving to them, cost her every spare moment of her day - a price she paid without any misgiving.

As a young woman, she met a wonderful young man and they married. Her devotion to him meant she had a little bit less to give to others, but she was happy nonetheless. They soon had 3 beautiful daughters upon whom they could both dotingly bestow their time, energy and love, and they probably would have lived happily ever after if it weren't for one small problem that dogged their marriage from the beginning: The giving girl (now woman) was tough to buy gifts for.

In stark contrast to the joy she felt in the act of giving, she was simply unable to feel good when others gave to her. This was mildly annoying to all of her bountiful friends and family, but for her husband it was a real problem. Through the years, he grew increasingly frustrated with the litany of excuses that prevented him from feeling the same joy in giving to her that she felt in giving to him and to others: "You spent too much"; "I don't deserve it"; "My skin reacts badly to anything but 925 silver"; and so on.

He knew, though, that somewhere there was the perfect gift waiting to be found - a gift so wonderful and inexpensive that his dear wife couldn't help but love it. And so he tried, year after year, to find it. At first, the quest was fun, but it soon became a dark and dangerous obsession.

One year, as the otherwise happy couple neared their 25th anniversary (and just days before the woman's birthday), a new Outlet Mall opened near their fair city . Amidst the insane crowds that flocked to the mall that opening week, one wild-eyed, bedraggled and seemingly possessed shopper stood out: Pushing his way from store to store, muttering to himself, twitching from head to toe, and casting his eyes this way and that in a frenzied search for that perfect gift. Other shoppers carefully avoided him until finally, in a seemingly endless line-up at the Coach Outlet, he collapsed and was rushed to a local hospital.

Sadly, what first simply seemed to be exhaustion, turned out to be much more serious as he slipped into a deep and abiding sleep from which the doctors soon held out little hope that he would ever awaken. His family gathered at his bedside, and day and night they prayed he would awaken. And of course, more than any other, his loving wife was by his side through it all, crying incessant tears, wondering what she might have done differently to prevent this seemingly terrible end; what more she could have given.

After months of vigil, one night she found herself alone in the hospital, her head on her husband's chest, completely and utterly spent. With her eyes clear of tears for the first time in months, she noticed that his left hand was clenched around a crumpled bit of paper. Prying his hand open, she pulled out what seemed to be a shopping list. As she scanned the list, she realized that it contained ideas for her birthday (now months past) and with stark and sudden clarity, she knew what had led to her husband's collapse.

She was beside herself (and him still). She knelt with her elbows on the hospital bed and made a heart-felt plea for something that, for the first time in her life, was what SHE wanted for herself: a second chance. Maybe coincidentally, but probably in response to her plea, the love of her life awoke at that very moment and in doing so was able to finally, finally, give her the perfect gift.

They left the hospital later that day, arm in arm, hand in hand (which is tough to do when you're also arm in arm), chatting about how all they ever wanted was each other's happiness. He gave her a kiss and she happily accepted it.

On her next birthday, he bought her a briefcase with a bunch of fun office stuff in it. She said she'd keep the office stuff but didn't need the briefcase. In a crazed and therapeutic fit of writing, he created a short-story about his misadventures, and upon its completion returned the briefcase and used the refund to buy himself a hooker.

The End.

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