" Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel." Isaiah 7:14
Carol: Angels We Have Heard on High
The Gift of the MagiFrom the story by O. Henry
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time. Three times Della counted it. One
dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it.
When Della finished her cry, she attended to her cheeks with a powder puff. She stood by the window and looked out dully. Tomorrow would be Christmas day, and she only had $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling -- something just a bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the looking glass. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall into its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James
Dillingham Youngs' in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and grandfather's. The other wad Della's hair.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. She did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet. On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mme
Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting.
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take your hat off and lets have a sight of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practiced hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, the next two hours were rosy as she
ransacked the stores for
Jims present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. there was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum watch-chain, simple in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew it must be
Jims. Quietness and value--the description applied to both.
Twenty-one
dollar they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the eighty-seven cents. With that chain on his watch, Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home, she got out her curling irons and went to work. Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a school-boy. She looked and her reflection in the mirror long, carefully and critically.
"If Jim
doesnt kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me --- But what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?"
Jim was never late. Della held the watch chain in her hand. She heard his step on the stair and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit of saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please, God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, was only twenty-two -- and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jims eyes were fixed on Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her.
"Jim
darling," she cried, "
dont look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold it because I
couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you wont mind will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say 'Merry Christmas!' Jim and lets be happy. You
dont know what beautiful nice gift I've got for you."
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, as if he had not arrived at the fact yet.
"Cut it off and sold it", said Della. "
Dont you like me just as well
anyhow? I'm me without my hair, aren't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?"
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold and gone, I tell you. Be good to me, for it went for you."
Our of his trance Jim seemed to quickly wake. He enfolded his Della in his arms.
Jim then drew the package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"
Dont make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I
dont think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then alas! a quick feminine change to tears and wails, necessitating all of
Jims comforting powers.
For there lay The combs -- the set of combs that Della had wanted for so long. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell with jeweled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. they were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had yearned for them without the least hope of possession. And now they were hers--but the hair was gone.
She hugged them to her, and at length was able to look up with a smile and say: "My hair
grows so fast, Jim!"
And then Della leaped up and cried,"oh,oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her own bright spirit.
"
Isnt it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," he said, "Lets put our Christmas presents away and
keep em a while. They're too nice to use just now. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now, suppose you put dinner on."
Eight dollars a week or a million a year -- What is the difference?
The Magi, as you know, were the wise men-- who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possible bearing the
privilege of exchange in case of duplications. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children who must unwisely sacrificed for
each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days, let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are the wisest. Everywhere they are the wisest. They are the Magi.
