A classic! O. Henry gave the literary world the real deal: "The Gift of the Magi"

Let's write about the brilliant writer, O. Henry!

"The Gift of the Magi" is a short story by O. Henry, first published in 1905. The story tells of a young husband and wife and how they deal with the challenge of buying secret Christmas gifts for each other with very little money. 

Read O. Henry's short story "The Gift of the Maji" at this Project Gutenberg site here.

In my opinion, the famous writer O. Henry made the Biblical story about The Magi (better known as The Three Wise Men) a real event. His story transcends the religious and he created a meaningful interpretation for the world to better understand and even internalize the Scriptures. 

An irony, in my opinion, because O. Henry was born in Budapest, Hungary in eighteen seventy-four. His father was a rabbi, a Jewish religious leader. His family moved to the United States two years later.

Scripture:  After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi, from the east, came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”

In a 2010 article published in The Atlantic, O. Henry's classic and brilliant short story is explained by Kevin Fallon.

It was 115 years ago, when William Sydney Porter sat in a dim, high-backed booth—the third one from the window—in Pete's Tavern on Irving Place, which cross-sects the Gramercy area of Manhattan. While patrons drank at the adjacent rosewood bar—some say moved by romance in his own life, others think it could be as simple as witnessing a stolen glance from one stranger to his beau—he sat and penned one of the most enduring love stories to come after the turn of the 20th century.

That writer is better known as O. Henry, and according to legend—a plaque commemorates that booth at Pete's over a century later—he scripted his famous "The Gift of the Magi" right there.

The indelible short story was first published on December 10, 1905 in the New York Sunday World Magazine. O. Henry was among the most popular writers of his day, with "Magi" being published at the height of his fame. The tale, a simply structured, exquisitely told story of self-sacrifice, generosity, and love, closed with the O. Henry signature: an ironic twist. The writing has its flaws, and no scholar would venture that it's the century's finest romance, yet in its simplicity, it finds its stakes and its resonance. 

After all, is there any task more dire than showing your one and only how much you care? It's why "The Gift of the Magi" has endured for more than a century, popping up in references everywhere from Sesame Street to Glee.

"One dollar and eighty-seven cents," the story begins on Christmas Eve, "That was all." From its opening, the story is relatable; destitution is a theme that will never lose relevance. Della and Jim are 22-year-old newlyweds, earning a $20 a week income, and living in a humble apartment—the kind furnished with a "shabby little couch" and pier-glass window panes. There's already too much to empathize with: being young, poor, and madly in love...and inhabiting a glorified closet called "home."

"She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result," O. Henry wrote, the tragedy being that Della was still unable to afford a Christmas present for her beloved. She had one holiday desire, and that's to be able to buy "something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim." It's in that line that the magnitude of their love is conveyed, to be filled with so much admiration for someone, to hold them to such high regard that things must be worthy.

What happens next most of us should know, having already felt that burning lump rise in our throats upon reading it, shedding a tear at its dénouement. Della and Jim, we learn, have but two luxurious possessions: her cascade of beautiful hair and his grandfather's gold watch. So deeply in love with her husband, Della can't bear not giving him a Christmas gift and sells off her hair to purchase a fob chain for his watch (her one heartbreaking regret: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."). 

When she gifts Jim the chain, we discover that he has pawned the watch to afford the tortoise-shell combs Della had been eyeing to comb her hair. "I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less," he says, as readers swoon, "But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

Jim and Della live their lives with such a sense of humor (O. Henry's wit is ever present, even in "Magi"). His nonchalant reaction to the irony (yes, Alanis this is ironic) makes the love story even more moving; she puts the pork chops in the frying pan, and their lives as a passionate couple move on. It's the consummate illustration of love being greater than the possession, and the case in point of there being a gift in giving. In the age where shoppers line up at 3 am to buy a HDTV at a 10 percent discount, perhaps the story constantly resurfaces to serve as a sort of moral compass, steering us back on course to the "season of giving."

And resurface it does, and often. Even Sesame Street's Bert and Ernie played out their own version of Della and Jim in 1978's Christmas Eve on Sesame Street, a TV special. Ernie pawns his beloved rubber duckie in order to buy a cigar box for his best friend, Bert, to store his paper clip collection in. Bert visits the same shop to barter his paper clip collection in exchange for a soap dish to give Ernie, for the said floating fowl. 

The act of selfless love plays out in everything from a one-hour musical adaptation "Magi", starring Gordon MacRae in 1958, to the 1978 television movie, The Gift of Love, starring none other than Marie Osmond.

But, O. Henry was really a private man who hardly gave interviews and was extremely guarded about his past (which included charges of embezzlement, an exile to Honduras, and an ensuing prison stint). 

Yet, what is known, is that he was devoted to his wife, Athol. They, like Jim and Della, married young and poor, living in rented cottages while he made ends meet as a banker. While he was in Latin America, she purportedly auctioned off a handkerchief to buy him a Christmas present; he returned to the States, and thus was sent to prison, to be with Athol as she died of tuberculosis. It's rumored that O. Henry wrote "The Gift of the Magi" in a hurried two or three hours because he was past deadline—and that may be true. But it's because he knew such great love that he was able to pen it so quickly.

It's also why I re-read his short story every year at this time. It's a reminder of the way we should be living, with love first, giving second, and possession below all. Admittedly, this is not the most original or nuanced analysis of O. Henry's short story, but, heck, his short story wasn't that original or nuanced either. That's precisely what makes it the default Christmas tale, and what gives me hope for finding that same kind of plain and simple love.

"Here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most 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 . . . They are the magi."

Kevin Fallon is a reporter for the Daily Beast. He's a former entertainment editor at TheWeek.com and former writer and producer for The Atlantic's entertainment channel.

Let's write about talents, as in Biblical Parables!

On November 14, 2020, on the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time 2020, this homily was given by John Michalowski, a Jesuit priest (S.J.), who celebrated Mass at Saint Peter's Church, the Jesuit Church, in Charlotte, North Carolina.

"What do we do with what we have?"

In response to the "Parable of the Talents", Matthew 25: 14-30,
tells of a master who was preparing to leave his house to travel, and he entrusted his property to his servants. According to the abilities of each man, one servant received five talents, the second received two, and the third received only one. The property entrusted to the three servants was worth 8 talents, where a talent was a significant amount of money. Upon returning home, after a long absence, the master asks his three servants for an account of the talents he entrusted to them. The first and the second servants explain that they each put their talents to work, and have doubled the value of the property with which they were entrusted; each servant was rewarded:

His lord said unto him, "Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord."
— Matthew 25:23

The third servant, however, had merely hidden his talent, burying it in the ground, and was punished by his master:

    "What do we do with what we have"? 

Do we see our talents, our time, our resources, and our intelligence as being all mine, or do we see our talents, our time, our resources, and our intelligence as gifts from God?

        If we see them as gifts, then will we heed Jesus' word, when he says, "What you have received as a gift, give as a gift"?  Simply to be thankful is not enough. Our gifts are for service.

        In fact, as Pope Francis has pointed out in his new encyclical, Fratelli tutti, "we is more important than I.  Without the "we",  I would not be. Without the we, I would have neither language nor culture, neither family nor religion. Without the we, I would have died at birth. We are persons, not just individuals. The pandemic reminds us that we are all part of a global community and we need to share our resources and our caring.  As Pope Francis said, COVID19, "has exposed our vulnerability and uncovered those false and superfluous certainties around which we constructed our daily schedules, our projects, our habits and priorities...Amidst this storm, the façade of those stereotypes with which we camouflaged our egos, always worrying about appearances has fallen away, revealing one more the ineluctable and blessed awareness that we are prt of one another, that we are brothers and sisers of one another. (#32*) 

        The hope is that we realize how much we are dependent on others who serve often in poorly paid positions and who do the sometimes monotonous and sometimes hard and dirty work hat allows us to eat, to be cared for when we are old, or sick, or sees to our safety.  The hope is that we come to realize how much we depend on those in other countries, and in our own, who do the hard agricultural labor to see that I can have bananas, blueberries and other fruits, vegetables and other foods year round.

        What do we do with what we have? What do I do with what I have? Note what happens in the parable with the two servants who have used their talents well and brought new talents into being.  The master commends them.  "Well done, good and faithful servant. Since yo were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come; share your master's joy."  Rather than giving them two weeks off, he commends their faithfulness and gives them greater responsibilities. This may seem unfair, until we realize that Jesus' call to us, as disciples, is not about making more money, or become superstars, or welding great power. No, Jesus' call to us is to follow him in bringing more love and caring into the world. This is the talent that he wants us to cultivate. Whether we have a talent for listening to those whom no one listens to, or whether our talent is cooking for others, or whether our talent is creating a  video game about people helping others or following the path of a refugee fleeing violence or climate change, whatever our talent is, the question is do we put it at the service others, to recognize the dignity of those who are part of the "we". This is what the worthy wife in Provers does. She not only cares for her family, but, "She reaches out her had to the poor, and extends her arms to the needy."  It is amazing what love can do - from caring for a foster child to seeing that those served by Roof Above have food to eat and a place to stay.  Sometimes a talent may blossom and many may be served. I watched the Jesuit Refugee Service 40th Anniversary webinar and one person who sent greetings was the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, a person whose mission is to coordinate the care for tens of millions of refugees and internally displaced persons.  

United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees

Commissioner Fillipo Grandi shared that over thirty years ago, when he had just gotten out of college, he joined the Jesuit Refugee Service and hat began his career in service to the refugees.  Perhaps God said to him, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities.

        Let us pray today that we might put the "we" of our brothers and sisters before the "me of self.  Let us pray that recognizing our talents and resources, we might place them in service to others. And, one day, may we hear the Lord say to each of us, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Come; share your master's joy." 

#32 Pandemics and Other Calamities in History

True, a worldwide tragedy like the Covid-19 pandemic momentarily revived the sense that we are a global community, all in the same boat, where one person’s problems are the problems of all. Once more we realized that no one is saved alone; we can only be saved together. As I said in those days, “the storm has exposed our vulnerability and uncovered those false and superfluous certainties around which we constructed our daily schedules, our projects, our habits and priorities… Amid this storm, the façade of those stereotypes with which we camouflaged our egos, always worrying about appearances, has fallen away, revealing once more the ineluctable and blessed awareness that we are part of one another, that we are brothers and sisters of one another”