The One I Gave Away

This story was turned in by eighth grader, Mary Gentry. Her teacher, Mrs. Higgins,  had asked the students to write an after-Christmas essay about the best Christmas gift they had ever received.  Mary penned the following.


When I was seven years old, my father had lost his job and we had moved from a nice house to one that was not-so-nice.  The Great Depression had arrived and our family, like so many others, was greatly affected by those desperate days.  It was early December and we, myself and my five brothers and sisters, knew that Christmastime would be much different.  Our parents had explained  that there was no money for toys, candy and other gifts that we had been able to afford for previous Christmases.  But they really did not have to explain.  We knew how bad things were and how hard Mom and Dad were trying just to provide us with the bare necessities.

All of the children knew and understood -- except for my little sister, Katie.  Katie was only four years old, the youngest of the family.  She was just at the age when a child really awakens to the sounds and lights and excitement of Christmas.  She was also very sick.  My parents had taken her to several big medical clinics to try to help her.  She had a terrible cough and seemed to be losing weight.  She wasn't any bigger than a button to begin with.  We were all very concerned about Katie.  Even though she was ill, she still had the brightest smile and prettiest red cheeks.  Katie didn't ask for much for Christmas.  She did not cry or pout when Mom explained to her how this Christmas would be different than the last one.  But being only four years old, Katie still dreamed.  She dreamed that she would get a Baby Ragamuffin Doll for Christmas.  She had seen this doll in the window of Fuston's Department store and had fallen in love with her.  As a matter of fact, Baby Ragamuffin looked kind of like Katie.  Now Katie knew that my parents did not have money for gifts, but thought that maybe Santa would still bring her this one gift.

About two weeks before Christmas, I was walking home from school.  I had stayed late at school with several other girls to help decorate our classroom.  So I was walking home by myself.  It was getting late and I was walking fast.  It was very cold and threatening to snow.  I had to go over railroad tracks to get to our house.  These tracks ran through the middle of town.  As I walked over them I looked down the track and saw the five o'clock coal train approaching.  This train did not make a stop in our town, it just passed through every day at about five.  You could see a long way down the track and the train was still a half mile away.  I was glad I had past the tracks before the train, or I would have had to wait seven or eight minutes before I could continue on my way home. 

But looking down the railroad toward the train, I saw something.  It was small and I first thought it was just a dog standing on the tracks.  But looking closer, my eyes focused on a small child.  The child was sitting on one of the rails.  There was no one near the child.  I was about 200 yards away.  I threw my books down and began to run toward the child.  I ran faster than I had ever run before.  The train just kept coming.   It was close enough that I knew it could not stop even if the engineer saw the child on the tracks.  I screamed as loud as I could while running for the child to get off the tracks.  The child now appeared to be looking toward the oncoming train, but complete oblivious to his danger.  By now I could see that this was a little boy sitting on the rail.  I was crying and running.  The train kept its pace.  It's whistle was blowing now as it always did when coming through a town, but I don't think the child was ever seen by the engineer.  I reached the little boy and pulled him off the tracks just as the train approached.  The train missed him by only a few seconds.

The track ran down the main street of town and by this time a number of people had run out of the stores.  The little boy's mother ran out of Fuston's Department Store over to us.  She grabbed the boy and me and hugged us and cried.  She cried a long time and hugged him and hugged me some more.  Soon there was a big crowd around us.  Everyone said that I was a real brave girl and a hero.  I was still crying  from the scare of the near-miss.  The little boy was Jimmy Barkley and his mother was Mrs. Judith Barkley, wife of Judge Thomas Barkley.  After a few minutes I was getting embarrassed by all the attention and praise I was getting, so I said that I needed to get home and left.           

By Christmas Eve I had about forgotten that frightening event.  Instead, my mind was on the previous Christmas.  Then we lived in our big house and had decorated it pretty for the season.  We all had gifts under the tree and had a wonderful time.  This Christmas was so much diffferent.  Still, I understood the true meaning of Christmas and was not wanting to feel sorry for myself.  My heart was breaking, though, for sister Katie.  She was growing sicker, it seemed, each day.  She stayed in bed most of the time.  But she still smiled and she stilled talked about having a Baby Ragamuffin doll.  That evening someone knocked at our door.  My father opened the door and, after a few seconds, called for me.  There was a man with a box.  He said it was for me and handed it to me.  There was a card on the box and I read it.  "Thank you for giving Jimmy back to us.  You are an angel we will never forget. "  It was signed by the Barkleys. 

I opened the box and could hardly believe my eyes.  It was Baby Ragamuffin!  The next day Santa had left only one gift at our house.  And it was for sister Katie.  She was so excited and so happy.  She didn't put her Baby down any all day and went to sleep with her cradled in her arms.  So you see, the best gift I ever got was the one I gave away.