deliberate acts of kindness

This Advent season, more than any other, I have been awed by the stories I've heard of people giving gifts to strangers.

A friend from church mobilized her co-workers at a local restaurant to adopt a family of illegal immigrants (a mom and five kids) for Christmas. She collected $460. The money came from people who are struggling to make ends meet, making the generosity all the more amazing.

And then there's this incredible story I read last night of people paying off strangers' Kmart layaways and a family who lost a young daughter to cancer asking for kindnesses to be done in her honor this week. Not only are people giving in beautiful ways this season, they are motivating others to follow suit.

Last night I was able to participate in one of these breathtaking acts of generosity. I will never forget it.

A woman who practices Tae Kwon Do with my husband gave Andrew two sealed envelopes a couple weeks ago. She told him that she likes to practice random acts of kindness over the holidays. She didn't know a lot of people in need but she thought we might be able to give the envelopes to people at our church's next free community supper. Andrew mentioned to me that the envelopes each had a gift card inside.

So last night I took the envelopes with me to the Third Tuesday Supper. I had the envelopes in my apron pocket and forgot about them until halfway through the dinner when I saw a young couple with five little kids under the age of six who come to the supper every month. Although they don't look destitute, I know from brief conversations that they live on the edge and greatly appreciate the free monthly meal. I immediately thought to give them one of the gifts in my pocket.

I gave the envelope to the dad and explained that it came from a friend and I didn't know what was in it exactly, probably not much, but I'm sure with five little ones every bit counts. He was very appreciative.

About 30 minutes later I saw the mom packing up to leave and I told her the same thing.

"It could just be a $5 Starbucks card," I said apologetically.

She looked at me, her eyes awash in tears and whispered, "It had a $100 bill in it."

I sat down next to her, stunned and teary.

"You have no idea how much we needed that," she said. "It could not have come on a better day."

I told her I was so happy but I really didn't have anything to do with it. The gift was from my husband's incredibly generous friend.

She looked at me wide-eyed and said with a crack in her voice, "But you chose us."

This Christmas season when we have so little material wealth to share, we have had a couple of opportunities to pass on monetary gifts that have come to us through other sources. Both times we could have kept the gifts for ourselves (oh, yes, I was momentarily tempted to open the envelopes myself) and, really, no one would blame us. (A fellow Redbud writer has had a similar experience this holiday.)

Instead, we chose to be the vessel. And simply passed on the gift.

Because the less we have, the more we're seeing what really matters: to be an instrument of God's love and be able to witness the awesome impact a gift has on someone who is desperate for a miracle.

As a result, we are not only celebrating the incarnation of love this Christmas, we are sharing in the incarnation of love this Christmas. Nothing beats it. Nothing.