A Joyful Giver

by emma nadeau

It was three weeks before Christmas. The sky was cloudy, and it wasn’t too cold—just right for a night of Ingathering (an Adventist tradition of knocking on doors, collecting money for the needy around the holidays). Many houses were already decorated with bright Christmas lights, making the dark night feel cheerful.

I was carrying a little lighted candle and playing the song “Silent Night” as I knocked on the door of each house along my side of the street. My friend was working on the other side of the street, and we were happy to be helping out.

After visiting a few houses, I came to one that looked just like the others—made of brick, with a sidewalk leading to a porch with wide steps. There was a small lawn and a hedge around the house. I rang the doorbell, and soon a boy about 9 or 10 years old opened the door. He was wearing a red robe and slippers. He smiled and quickly invited me inside.

I asked if his mom or dad was home.  

“No,” he said. “I’m here by myself.”  

He listened to the music and looked at my candle while I told him what I was doing—collecting donations to help people. I gave him a little booklet and said, “Please give this to your mom; maybe she can help next year.” Then I reached for the doorknob to leave.

“Wait!” the boy said. “I can give you something!” He ran into another room, and I heard coins jingling. When he came back, he had three pennies and a nickel. Smiling, he dropped them into my collection can as I said, “Thank you! You’re a good boy.” I said good night and went on my way.

A few houses later, I suddenly heard a small voice calling, “Lady! Lady! I have more money!” It was the same boy, running across the lawn in his red robe. He dropped more pennies into my can.  

“Thank you again!” I said, but before I could say more, he ran back home through the hedge.

I continued on, enjoying the evening. A gentle breeze blew, and tiny snowflakes danced in the light. I could see the candlelight of my friend on the other side of the street, and I hoped she was doing well. I quietly prayed that God would bless everyone helping with the donations.

Suddenly I heard the little boy’s voice again. “Lady! Lady! I’m coming!” he shouted. Out of breath, he caught up to me again with more pennies. He carefully dropped them into the can, smiling happily.

Now I was a little worried. What would his mom say if she were home? I asked, “Son, are you sure your mom would want you to give this money?”  

“It’s my money, and Mom doesn’t care what I do with it,” he said, and off he went again.

Later, after finishing my side of the street, I crossed over to meet my friend. Just then I heard the boy’s voice one more time. He was riding his bicycle, still in his red robe and slippers! With one hand he held the handlebars, and with the other he held even more pennies.  

“I got them all out!” he called as he stopped, sliding off his bike. He dropped a whole handful of pennies into my can. I couldn’t believe how many coins he had held in his fist!

“Thank you so much,” I said. “God loves boys like you, and He will bless you for being so kind. You must be cold without a coat.”  

“Oh, no,” he said, “I’m fine! I go fast on my bike!” And before I could ask his name, he was gone, pedaling off into the night.

This story is adapted from the December 1981 Adventist Review. At the time of the original writing, author Emma Nadeau lived in Oshawa, Ontario, Canada.