An Unlikely Giver

By: Amanda Renée Bishop

The blustery cold hit Amber’s cheeks as she stepped out of her rusted Ford. As she slowly walked against the frigid north wind into Greggor’s Grocery she prayed “Lord, I only have ten dollars. I need to buy groceries and a Christmas present for Bryan. Please help!”  To add to her distress, the store would be closing in a mere fifteen minutes.

As she passed through the doors, the change in temperature was a welcome sensation. Amber quickly grabbed a cart and rushed toward the aisles. She plowed past the woman standing beside a red kettle ringing her bell. With a flush of embarrassment, fatigue and adrenaline, she whispered, “Lord, please forgive me for being rude.” More than anything, she just wanted for Christmas to be over, and for a new year to begin.

This holiday season had been tough with Amber’s husband walking out on her and their five year old son, Bryan. Although she tried her best to keep up on the bills, going from two incomes to one had placed a major strain on her finances. Breezing through the store in a whirlwind, she walked past the hams, wishing she could prepare one Christmas day. The lingering aroma from the deli triggered memories of happy celebrations gone by.

The happiness quickly faded. Amber remembered her current state when the loudspeaker blared to life, “Greggor’s Grocery is now closing, please bring your purchases to the front for checkout.” With her head low, and a cart nearly empty, Amber drudged towards the front. With her meager budget, she had managed a loaf of white bread, the cheapest lunch-meat she could find, a gallon of milk and a red ball for Bryan.

“How will this food last us a whole week, Lord?” She contemplated taking the ball back, yet she wanted so desperately to give Bryan something for Christmas. It had been a hard year for him as well.  Making it through the checkout with ten cents to spare, Amber breathed a quick sigh of relief.

With one bag filled and a “thank you” to the cashier, Amber buttoned up her hunter green coat. She placed her gloves, one with a large hole in the pointer finger, on her hands. Amber knew that the cold air would soon rush to greet her exposed finger. She tried her best to hold in the tears that were suddenly threatening to flood her face. “Hold it together just a little bit longer,” Amber whispered as she started to walk past the woman near the entrance once again.

She stopped, placed her last ten cents into the kettle, mustered up a friendly “Merry Christmas”, then turned to leave. “Wait ma’am, please…” Marie approached Amber and said, “A friend of the red kettle campaign donates a special prize each year. This year I was instructed to give the prize to the last customer on Christmas eve… and well, that appears to be you ma’am. Congratulations!”

Amber stood in shock as Marie pointed behind her to a box filled with presents, one of which was a pair of brand new gloves! Marie filled Amber’s cart, and topped it off with a gift card and several bags of food. Amber finally let the tears flow freely, and exclaimed, “I don’t know what to say, this means more to me than words could express.” Amber hugged Marie, thanked her multiple times, and then headed back out into the cold.

As she returned to her rusted Ford, Amber smiled with a sense of peace. So much so, that she almost let out a thankful scream in the middle of the parking lot. God had not only answered her prayer, but had gone above and beyond with this Christmas blessing. “Thank you Lord that you always care and hear my prayers.”