One day when I was living in California, I went to the Santa Monica mall for distraction because: a) I was between jobs again; b) I was healing from another failed romance; and c) I had shopping to do. Soon though, the repetitious Christmas muzak began to pall and I started for home.
Then it happened. In the time it took to escalate down from the second floor to the first, I saw a young man dash up to the perfume counter directly ahead of me. He blurted out to the salesclerk that he needed a gift to fix a problem. After obtaining a few details she told him, “If this were my problem, sir, I’d go over to jewelry. Buy her diamonds so beautiful they will make her cry. Then she’ll be your girl again.”
By the time I reached the first floor, he’d rushed off to the jewelry section but I’d come to a complete halt. For I realized I’d just been given a rare gift—a story so fresh and appealing, it had to be inspired.
There was no time to lose. My imagination began flooding and I left the mall in a daze. I somehow knew that the story was about the young clear k. I also knew that clerks depended on commissions, yet all she seemed to care about was that he got the right gift to mend his troubled relationship. Why?
By the time I was climbing the steps to my west side apartment, I knew this much about the woman: she was a UCLA graduate student doing research on gift-giving while working at a department store. She was also a single mom, and her ten year old son wanted a dog that Christmas that she wouldn’t let him have.
Wait—I’m an avowed Easter person, I thought. How did I get the assignment to write a Christmas novel? In The Artist’s Way (a wonderful gift/book for any artist), Julie Cameron maintains that an artist gets mysteriously but purposefully chosen to do certain work. It’s not the person in front of you, it’s not the person behind you, it’s you.
This gift did not make being single easier but it gave me new purpose. It also added substantial joy and humility to my life. For these blessings I thank the Giver of all gifts.
