We All Have Something to Give

It was a week before Christmas and Bob and I were struggling to make ends meet during a spell of cold weather. We were busking near Shaftesbury Avenue one evening, when a Salvation Army band and choir arrived and began singing the Christmas carol, ‘In the Bleak Midwinter.’ I found myself drawn in by the words, in particular to the final verse:

What can I give Him, poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb.

If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;

Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

 

Times were hard and I suddenly felt sorry for myself.

Ha, I thought. What do I have to give? Nothing.

But I was wrong.

Just then a lady passed by. She was in her fifties, smartly dressed, but looking a little emotional.

‘Would you mind if I had a moment with him?’ she said, seeing Bob. ‘Of course,’ I replied.

As she sat and stroked Bob, we began chatting. It turned out it was the anniversary of her son’s death. She was no longer married to the boy’s father and was heading home to an empty house. She’d had a cat, but it had died six months earlier, too.

‘I’m dreading tonight,’ she said, dabbing away a tear. ‘I’ll be all alone there with my memories. You are so lucky to have Bob here with you.’

It stopped me in my tracks. I felt such a fool.

We all have something to give. No matter how small or trivial we might think it is, it could mean the world to someone else. No matter how sorry we are feeling for ourselves, we should never forget it.