My most prized possession as a child was a toy pony named Parasol. I received it for my 9th birthday. I loved her rainbow mane and soft pink fur 🙂 She was my favorite stuffy, and she came with me everywhere. One day I went for a walk with my father down to a soup kitchen near where we lived. One of his embedded rules was to give our time to help those less fortunate. My pony helped me clear empty dishes. She would join me to eat when my Dad felt we had earned a free meal. We would wash tables, and help stack chairs when lunch was over, always staying till the end. The kind Minister would give us some of the left overs to take home. “Otherwise they will end up in the garbage”, he always told my Dad. Those leftovers would accompany that nights supper.
I had an amazing Father, always giving my siblings and me his time. One day there was a little girl at the soup kitchen, younger than me, and we became fast friends. One Saturday after cleaning up the dining hall, I pulled out my pony for her and I to play with. It was just before Christmas and I was talking about all the toys Santa was going to bring me. I was devastated when my new friend told me her Mom told her she wasn’t going to get any presents this year because they had no money.
Tears streamed down my cheeks when I told my Father, and I asked if I could give her something for Christmas. He was a benevolent man and told me I could. Happily I searched my room for the perfect gift that would delight my friend. I settled on my most prized possession, my pony Parasol.
The following day I looked everywhere for my little friend, but she wasn’t there. Honestly, I never saw her again. My father could see the disappointment in my eyes, and saw me constantly searching for her as I held on to my little wrapped package. After a few days one of the volunteers at the soup kitchen told my father that her family had moved away. My Father gently asked me what I had settled on to give her, so I handed him the package. Through tears in his eyes he opened it to discover I was giving her my most prized possession, my beloved Parasol pony.
It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized we too were very poor, and we went to the soup kitchen because we had no food. My Father had picked bottles and did odd jobs to come up with the money to buy me my pony. He taught me wealth did not make the person, a good heart did. Possessions fade away and loose their luster, but teaching a child to see the value in giving of ourselves, its not only a good feeling, but it becomes a part of who they are, a part of who I am.