Lest you think little things do not mean much, let me tell you something about a little thing becoming a great big thing in my life.  This story still touches my heart to this day.  It happened in my very first year of teaching and is still with me.  Every Christmas I am reminded of the love of this wonderful season.  My student and his mother taught me the real meaning of life.

                The week before Christmas my student's mother came to my classroom and handed me a package all wrapped up in old newspapers and tied with worn out string.

                "We're having a hard Christmas, but I wanted to thank you and let you know that this gift is from Johnny and me.  Please don't tell him what I did.  He might be embarrassed, but I wanted to remember you."

                I thanked her, put the package in my desk and began my busy day.  I could hardly wait to "peek" at the first break, but other things demanded my attention.  Johnny needed help with spelling.  Becky had trouble with math.  Other students needed my direction with their science projects.  Things were just as hectic during the afternoon.

                 Finally, tired and weary after a long, but productive day, I gathered the papers I needed to grade and opened my desk to get my purse.  Then I saw the package.  I wanted to tear into it but I decided to wait.  "I'll open it when I get home," I thought.  I longed to hit the couch and have a cup of tea.

                "What's this with the newspapers all wrapped up?"  my husband asked as I unloaded my school paraphernalia.

                "Let's see," and I tore away the newspaper.  Inside the paper was a coffee can.

"It's a can of coffee," Emmitt exclaimed.

                 As I held the can and examined it, imagine my surprise to find a little cake inside. A simple little prune cake baked in a coffee can filled the room with its sweet aroma.  I made us hot tea, while Emmitt sliced the cake.  We sat around the fire in the fireplace and ate it all...every last bite!   Savoring every crumb, I began to tell him of the day's events.

                My tears began to flow as I told about the mother's gift earlier that morning.  Her sacrificial present spoke volumes to my heart.  She gave what she could with what she had to give.  She could not have given me a greater gift.   Her act of sacrifice reminded me of God's great gift of love to the world.

                "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life"  (John 3:16).  There is no greater love. God reaches down to earth with arms of love for those who will receive it.  It is the truth of the ages, the true meaning of Christmas.  As long as the world remains, there will be Christmas in the human heart.

                After 31 years of teaching in the public schools, I still remember the taste of that wonderful cake and its meaning.  I have never had a gift before or since that impressed me as much as that prune cake in a little coffee can.  What made that cake so delicious?

I wondered about that for many years.   I tried to duplicate that cake many times, but it never turned out right.  Now I know the secret.  "Love is the main ingredient in the recipe of life."

                So Johnny, wherever you are, I shall be forever grateful for the lesson your mother taught me:

                "A gift of love and sacrifice is a gift forever!"