My heart felt as empty as the tiny, wet basement I lived in on that chilly Christmas night. I assumed it was an error when I heard the knock at the door. Nobody was aware of my residence, and I most definitely wasn’t anticipating guests.
When I carefully opened the door, I saw a man in a dapper suit standing there with a red gift box that was exquisitely wrapped and tied with a golden bow. I almost believed I was having hallucinations because his presence was so inappropriate in the run-down hallway.
“Are you… Emily?” he said in a composed and assured tone.
“Yes,” I said reluctantly, holding on to the doorframe.
Saying, “This is for you,” he gave me the box.
I gazed at it with confusion. “I think there’s been a mistake.”
He gave a soft smile. “No error. You changed someone’s life two years ago, and here is their gift to you. “Happy Christmas.”
He turned and left me standing at the doorway with the enigmatic present before I could ask him any more questions. My thoughts were racing when I shut the door. Who might it be?
I cautiously opened the box while seated on my shabby couch. I discovered a handwritten note on classy stationery inside:
* “To Emily,
I was saved by you two years ago. I vowed on the plane that day that I would always remember what you did for me. I had no idea that your bravery and kindness would serve as a beacon of hope for me.
I respected your privacy, but the airline told me more about you after the incident. My heart sank when I learned what you’ve endured since. Nobody who is so generous and unselfish should have to go through this alone.
Accept this present as a memento of my unending appreciation. I hope you get the happiness and security you so greatly deserve. I want to give you the same second chance at life that you gave me.
With gratitude and love,
Parker, Margaret*
As I read her name, tears clouded my vision. I had prevented Margaret Parker from choking during that flight. I dismissed the encounter as just another workday and hadn’t thought about her in years.
A pile of papers lay beneath the letter. I initially believed it to be another letter, but upon closer inspection, I became paralyzed.
They were actions. documents of ownership.
In the center of the city, Margaret had given me a tiny café that was totally paid off and came with a statement describing how successful it was under the existing management. The actions were accompanied by a check, so large that my hands shook.
It wasn’t only a present. It served as a lifeline.
I sobbed for the remainder of that Christmas night—not because I was depressed, but rather because of the incredible generosity of a woman I hardly knew.
My life was irrevocably altered by that moment. I put my all into managing the café after rebuilding myself. I made it a point to hire people who needed a second chance, like the one Margaret had given me, and two years later it was one of the city’s most popular venues.
I learned from that Christmas that the good we do for the world always comes back to us, sometimes in unexpected ways.