The Gifts They Couldn’t Keep

The snow had begun to fall quietly outside, dusting the streets in a soft blanket of white. Inside a small apartment, Della stood by the window, her hands trembling as she counted the few coins she had saved.

“One dollar and eighty-seven cents,” she whispered. “After all these weeks of saving, that’s still all I have.”

It was Christmas Eve — a night of joy for many, but for Della, it was filled with worry. She wanted to buy a gift for Jim, her husband, a man she loved more than anything in the world. But what could she buy with such a small amount?

Jim’s most precious possession was a gold pocket watch that had been passed down from his father and grandfather. Della had always dreamed of finding a chain worthy of that watch — something simple, yet elegant — something that showed her love. But the few coins in her hand mocked her hope.

She turned toward the mirror and sighed. Her hair — thick, soft, and brown as chestnut silk — fell below her waist. It was her pride, her beauty, and, as she looked at it, an idea began to form.

With sudden courage, she put on her worn coat and hurried through the cold streets. The sign on the door read: “Madame Sofronie – Hair Goods of All Kinds.”

“Would you buy my hair?” Della asked softly.

Madame Sofronie raised an eyebrow. “Take off your hat, dear.”

As Della’s hair fell down like a waterfall, the woman nodded. “Twenty dollars.”

Within minutes, Della’s long hair was gone. Her neck felt cold, her heart heavy — yet her eyes shone with a strange happiness. She now had enough to buy Jim the perfect gift.

All afternoon she searched until she found it — a platinum chain, simple but strong, just like Jim himself. She smiled through tears as she handed the shopkeeper twenty-one dollars. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

When she returned home, she tried to fix her short curls as best she could. They framed her face like soft tendrils, but she worried what Jim would think. “Please, Lord,” she murmured, “make him love me just the same.”

As the clock struck seven, the door opened. Jim stepped in, tall and gentle, his face tired from work but full of love. For a long moment, he stood still, staring at her — his expression unreadable.

“Jim,” she cried, “don’t look at me like that! I cut my hair to buy you a gift. It’ll grow back. I just wanted to give you something special.”

Jim walked toward her slowly and smiled faintly. “You’ve cut your hair?”

“Yes,” she said. “I sold it. It’s Christmas Eve, Jim, and I couldn’t let it pass without giving you something worthy of you.”

He reached into his coat pocket and handed her a small box. “And I couldn’t let it pass without giving you something too.”

Her fingers shook as she opened the box — and then she gasped. Inside lay a pair of beautiful tortoiseshell combs, the very ones she had admired in a shop window for months.

Tears filled her eyes as she touched them. “My hair grows fast, Jim,” she whispered. “I’ll wear them soon.”

Then she remembered the gift in her hand. “Now it’s your turn. Merry Christmas, my love.”

She held out the platinum chain.

Jim looked at it, then at her — and laughed softly, a tender, bittersweet sound. “Della,” he said, “I sold the watch to buy you those combs.”

For a moment, they could only stare at each other — then both began to laugh and cry together, holding each other close.

All that was left in their home that night were two gifts they couldn’t use — a watch chain without a watch, and combs without hair. But in that tiny room, filled with love and laughter, they had everything that truly mattered.

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Moral:

> Love is the only gift that never loses its worth.

The greatest treasures are not what we keep —

but what we give from the heart.