The Jewelry Box

I had been saving my money to buy a Christmas present for my Mom. I mowed lawns in the summer and did chores to get a little extra. I didn’t have a lot and Christmas was coming. I wanted so desperately to get just the right present, the present I knew she would love, the present that would tell her how much I appreciated what she did for me, because I could never tell her those things. I was eleven.

One night close to Christmas, my Mom took my little brother and me shopping at the Mall. Mom smiled when I told her I was old enough to go shopping by myself. We set a time to meet back at the fountain.

As I watched her walk away holding my little brother’s hand I suddenly felt very small. There were so many people and so many stores.

I wandered into a department store and began looking at the dresses. I knew my Mom would like a new dress. The sales clerk, an older lady with glasses, scowled at me so I kept moving.

I walked by a jewelry store. There were so many sparkling things. Surely Mom would like one. I stood at the counter and stared at the necklaces. A man in a suit looked over the edge of the counter and asked if he could help me.

“I’m looking for a present for my Mom.”

“This store only sells fine jewelry.”

“Oh.” If I was going to get my Mom a necklace, I wouldn’t want to get her something that wasn’t fine. He turned away, so I kept moving.

As I walked through the crowded Mall, I started to panic. What if I couldn’t find something? What if I couldn’t find the right thing. The right thing was just as important as finding some thing.

In desperation, I went back into the department store. As I walked by the counter a jewelry box caught my eye.

“May I help you?” A college girl smiled at me from behind the counter.

“How much is the jewelry box?”

She lifted it off the shelf and placed it on the counter.

“It’s very lovely,” she said.

“It’s for my Mom.”

She leaned closer. “Listen,” she whispered.

She opened the box. It began to play a tinkling song. “Misty,” she said. “It’s a beautiful song. She’ll love it.”

I’d never heard of the song, but it was pretty. And, the girl who said my Mom would love it was pretty.

“I’ll take it.”

The musical jewelry box cost all my money. I would not have any money to buy my brother a present.

“Would you like it wrapped?”

“No.” I grabbed the bag and ran out of the store. I was late.

As I ran through the Mall, I could see my Mom and my brother sitting by the fountain. She smiled when I ran up.

“Wha’d you get?” My brother asked.

“Shut up,” I said. I was suddenly angry. I knew I hadn’t got the right thing. Tears stung my eyes. I wiped them away.

“What’s wrong?” My Mom asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “Let’s go.”

All the way home I was quietly angry, trying to fight away tears. My desperation to get the right present had brought too many emotions I wasn’t prepared for.

I remember, on Christmas morning, when my Mom opened her jewelry box, she told me she loved it. She said it was the best present ever.

I knew better.

*****************

My Mom is now nearly ninety years old. She’s gotten quite frail and very forgetful. This year, she was going to spend Christmas with us.

When I drove to St. George to pick her up and bring her to our house, she was still in bed. She didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to come for Christmas. She said she didn’t understand why the Lord didn’t just take her.

“Come on, Mom, your grandchildren want to see you.”

It took some persuading to get her out of bed. When she was just about ready, she went into her bathroom. She said she needed to put on her favorite necklace. I heard her open something. And then, I heard an old familiar tune tinkling from the jewelry box.

My eyes grew misty, and I was transported right back to that night in the mall so many years ago. Maybe she did know how I felt about her.

The box closed and the music stopped. My Mom came out of the bathroom.

“Now, I’m ready,” she said.