The Gift

Today is Saturday and it’s raining. Roland and I have come to Beenleigh (Brisbane southside) for a spot of shopping. My dear old friend (well he is over four years older than me) steers his car into the lane that will take us to the underground parking area.

“If I was driving I would park outside,” I say.

“But it’s raining,” responds Roland.

He loves that new car of his. I can’t bring myself to give voice to my objections. To me, subterranean parking is always a last resort; I’m not a mole or one of those potholing types – dark confined places are anathema to me – but I keep this to myself.

“Phew, the air is hot down here – I can hardly breathe!” I blow my disdain.

Roland appears not to notice either the oppressive heat, or my reaction to it, and I keep puffing and blowing as we walk to the doors that lead to the escalators. There is a hubbub of activity ahead. We join the crowd in front of the glass doors and a young woman bearing a box approaches me.

“Happy Christmas!” she says, offering me the box.

“What is it?” I ask.

“A Christmas present,” she beams.

“Do I have to pay for it?” I ask warily (like Scrooge).

“No, it’s just a present.”

“What’s the catch?” I let my thoughts become words.

“No catch, we just want people to have a happy Christmas,” she smiles with a charming frankness.

“Thank you”. I accept the gift and give the girl a kiss on the cheek.

“The ‘Centrocentre’ is a church,” Roland says under his breath.

Some time later we return to the doors at the bottom of the escalators. The crowd is still there but this time we are greeted by a girl holding a piece of hot pizza on a paper napkin. I am still carrying the unopened gift-box in my left hand.

“Hot pizza?” she offers.

“Thank you – I’m starving.” By now accustomed to the kindness of these strangers, I accept the treat without question, as does Roland.

All the while that the box has been in my hand I have been wondering about the contents, also the motivation. I was struck by the look of genuine warmth in those brown eyes and the broad smile… I think I can guess what is in the box – a prayer book would be too expensive – it has to be food.

Back in Roland’s kitchen at Belivah I cannot contain myself – I open the box before I put the shopping away. The box is a hamper filled with all sorts of nourishment:- staple food in the form of noodles; something sweet and something savoury – biscuits and crisps; a packet of Lipton’s English Breakfast teabags and a soft-drink; something to amuse – rubber bands for making bracelets – and something to read (an invitation to the Christmas service and a welcome to their  “Do Drop in Shop”, for clothing, food parcels and counselling); and there is even a Christmas card.

We have eaten the biscuits and now I’m having a cup of Lipton’s English Breakfast tea. I have put the Christmas card on the hallway table and, as I write this blog post, I am thinking about the gift… For some reason “CentroCare” chose the underground car park as their venue… I’m glad Roland didn’t want to park his expensive new car in the rain. It’s all about goodwill – isn’t it?

 

 

 

 

 

1 thought on “The Gift

  1. Wow! Piece (of pizza) and goodwill to all men! It must have been the Biblical “Piece that Passeth all Understanding”!

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