Sam Nichols' Gift

As a kid, I never thought we were poor; we just didn’t have much. I was usually happy with my few possessions anyways. I enhanced the rest with my imagination. THAT was my greatest and most favorite possession, as it filled my free time with much entertainment. I would ride my imaginary red tricycle up and down the road, and meet my imaginary animal friends. Some were ugly and some were cute, but they all liked me.

For my first few years of existence, I could not understand why my human friends were not satisfied with anything they had. They needed more clothes, more candy, and more toys. Nothing was ever good enough for them. Most adults I knew were the same way. It was as if they never grew out of that.

My parents were somewhat different but still were not completely happy with things. They accepted whatever they could get but really wanted more. They could not afford much beyond their meager means. Life seemed somewhat unfair to them. The harder they tried to improve things, the more impossible it seemed to do so. Education did not afford them much. Daddy finished high school, but Mommy did not. She quit school to raise me. Although jobs were scarce, Daddy was able to get a job at the local lumber yard. At least he was able to buy an old Ford pickup truck. It was red, just like my imaginary tricycle. Even when I was too young for school, I got to ride with him on some deliveries. I met all kinds of people that way. That is how I knew how sad or happy they were.

One person was most peculiar. I met several happy people, but Sam Nichols took the cake. He was very empathic and knew almost exactly how dire things were at times. Nothing could bring him down. Of course, some things made him sad, like fighting and sickness and mean people, but he kept talking about silver linings and tunnel lights. What made him most happy was talking about people, animals, and plants. He made sure everybody smiled when they left. Animals were everywhere on his property, and none ran away. He made sure his grass stayed green and the plants were clean and neat. Everyone who left his property had to take a box of fruits and vegetables. He made things out of metal and wood, so I always left with a toy.

Not even the gray gloom of winter was enough to dismay Sam. It seemed to be the time of year he liked most. His anticipation crescendoed into excitement as the snow covers grew thicker. Every year he recounted the story of Saint Nicholas, sang traditional winter songs from many lands, and recited “’Twas the Night Before Christmas”.

Strangely enough though, as Christmas drew nearer, we tended to see less and less of him as he became busier and busier at—well, who knows what. No one really knew what he was up to. On occasional visits, we could hear a lot of pounding and grinding from a barn near the house (at times I could swear he was not the only one at work there).

One winter was extremely harsh, and the lumber yard had a bad year. There was not enough full-time work for my Daddy. I could see the stress on his face as he struggled to find ways to meet expenses. He fell way short that year. He told Mommy and me that there will be no Christmas that year, and the truck was leaking oil. Mommy cried, and said she didn’t care about Christmas as long as the bills were paid and the truck was fixed.

All I could do was offer up a child’s prayer and hope God listened. “Please, God, send us some money, and make Mommy and Daddy happy.”

The next day, I was the hungriest so I got up first. Maybe there were some leftover biscuits in the fridge. It was still dark and I couldn’t reach the light switch, so I opened the bedroom door and stumbled into the hallway as quietly as I could. For some reason, the hallway was not as dark as it usually was. There seemed to be some kind of glow coming from the living room. I thought maybe Daddy was reading with a flashlight again. However, this light was brighter than even that, but still not very bright—it seemed to be glimmering. A really nice smell was coming from there, too. With the highest curiosity I could muster, I approached the living room.

What I saw there literally took my breath away. Before me was the biggest, grandest Christmas tree I had ever seen (at least what could fit inside our humble home). It exuded the freshest, sweetest pine aroma I had ever smelled. It was all decked out in crystal clear ornaments of every color. They glittered and glistened with pure rainbow sparkles of light, such as I had never seen before. I seemed to float towards them, although I think I bumped against something by the tree. I looked closely at one ornament, and then another. I then realized that I could see images in each. Some were of exotic places with beautiful trees; others were people with very happy faces; and, best of all, some were my imaginary animal friends.

Eventually, I looked around and saw that I had bumped against a big shiny object. It was my imaginary tricycle, only this time it was REAL!

I accidentally let out a big yelp and holler and jumped on the tricycle. I rode it around and around the room as fast as I could, laughing and vrooming as loud as I could! Almost immediately the living room light flashed on, and there stood Mommy and Daddy staring at me with a look of shock and concern. When they realized I was okay, they looked down at the tricycle. Their mouths dropped wide open as they looked around the room and saw it was now occupied by a big, glittering tree and a bunch of stuff all around it.

I continued my tirade around the living room while they rushed around checking all the doors and windows. They were talking loudly and nervously about something, but I wasn’t sure what it was. I heard Daddy say, “We locked all the doors and windows. We don’t have a chimney”. Mommy said, “I never heard a noise”.

Daddy went outside with a flashlight while I continued to cut circles on the floor. Suddenly he rushed back in and told us to go outside real quick to see something. When I got there, Daddy seemed very happy and Mommy had her hands over her mouth, which was wide open. The truck was still there, but it was painted the same shiny red as my tricycle. It was like a whole new truck. It even sounded new, and we drove it around for a while.

It was already daylight when we got back. We saw marks in the snow in front of the house. There were two long parallel lines and some marks which Daddy identified as deer hoof prints. It seemed there were several deer involved. The strange part was that the marks started and stopped within a short distance. They came from nowhere and they led to nowhere. There were no human footprints except ours.

We went inside and began checking the packages left by the tree. We found clothes that fit perfectly and some kitchen mitts for Mommy. Daddy got a new hammer and saw. He got some other tools also.

We all got on our knees and offered thanks to God for the gifts. Well, God made Mommy and Daddy happy (and me), but still, there was no money. When we all stood back up, I thought I saw Sam Nichols standing outside the yard. I saw him smile and tap his nose, then walk away.

I saw him several times after that. He would order wood from the lumber yard. He would pay for it then tell Daddy what to make with it. He apparently knew people who needed new furniture or toys. Daddy became so well known for his skills that orders started coming in by the dozens. He eventually started his own carpentry business. Later he was able to build a better house for us.

Whenever I started to ask Sam about what happened, he put one finger on his mouth to signal silence, then he would smile and tap his nose as before.

Many years have passed since that time, and I have yet to learn what happened. I became very enthralled and curious whenever Sam sang the winter songs, and wonder why he was able to relate the Saint Nicholas and “Night Before Christmas” tales as if he were the protagonist.

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It is with much hesitation that I relate a subsequent event that dimmed the light on this hitherto wondrous and magical narrative. Mom and Dad, as I now call them, arrived at my home in the still new-looking truck, and brought the news that Sam was in a bad way at his home. We rushed over in time to find him in bed with the doctor at his side. The doctor indicated there was but a moment left, then exited the room, shutting the door behind him. We did our best to say our goodbyes. Sam told me there was one last package for me in the living room. It had an envelope with instructions written inside. Then he smiled and tapped his nose. That smile froze to his face as his hand fell to the side. Mom, Dad, and I hugged it seemed for a long time. The doctor returned and pronounced Sam Nichols dead.

I found the package with an envelope that said, “Do not open until you are alone at home.” When Mom and Dad dropped me off, I rushed to my living room and opened the envelope. As per instructions, I cannot tell you or anyone else the remainder of the instructions. I can tell you that the tricycle went to a needy child, and the red suit fit me perfectly.