Free Gifts; Chapter 1

Free Gifts; Chapter 1

© 2024 by Amber Wright

Date: Christmas Eve, 1888

Place: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Truly, the best in life is often free.

On King’s Court snow piled in the streets and covered all the eaves of the shops.

Christmas Eve 1888 had come and now the street hawkers were shouting even louder. Business was very competitive and every seller had something better to sell than his neighbor.

But in Mr. Agape’s shop the aisles were empty and the counter was silent.

At noon a girl wearing a patched up coat and a fearful glance entered the shop timidly. All the other shopkeepers had barked at her and always told her to go out as soon as she stepped into the door, would this shopkeeper be the same? She hoped not. She was so cold. And she only wanted to warm up a little before facing the icy streets again.

She stood quietly just inside the door, hoping the shopkeeper wouldn’t notice her.

Mr. Agape cleared his throat. “Are you looking for something, young lady?”

The girl froze and waited for the usual command for her to leave. Once the man knew she had no money to buy anything he would definitely make her leave. She knew he would. She stared back at him and said nothing.

Mr. Agape walked over to her and found her trembling. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“But why?”

“Because I have no money to buy,” the girl gulped. There, she had said it. Now she would surely be thrown into the streets as usual.

Mr. Agape’s eyes misted as he told her gently, “Then you have come to the right place. I have nothing to sell.”

“But, sir—?” The girl’s eyes rounded, taking a look at all the filled shelves and counters.

“What you see here in my shelves you cannot buy with money. You buy them another way.”

“But I have no other way to buy. I have no credit.”

“But you must have some credit to your name, my child.” Mr. Agape lifted one of her red, weathered hands. “You have worked hard. Your hands show much time in the bucket of dishwater. And see where the splinters of wood has scarred your palm. You have no credit, no?”

The girl looked down at her hand. Although she had no money or no credit, she had weathered hands to prove her hard work.

“But it is not enough, is it?”

“What is it that you need, my child?” Mr. Agape smiled, and began to lead her around the shop. “Candy perhaps? A doll?”

The girl lowered her eyes. “Candy and dolls I may want, but that’s not what I need.”

Mr. Agape stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. Then he slowly asked, “What is it that you do need?”

“I am poor and with no money. My mother lies sick in bed and we can’t afford a doctor. I’m afraid she will die if she does not get the medicine she needs.”

Mr. Agape pulled out a bottle from under the counter. “Here. Take this to your mother and she will be fine.”

“But—?”

“It’s free.”

The girl took the bottle with trembling hands and thanked Mr. Agape, blinking back tears of gratitude. In her hand was a bottle labeled: Health. Just before she turned to leave Mr. Agape thrust a very pretty doll called Hope into her hands.

“For your thoughtfulness and devotion,” he smiled.

The girl left the shop and eagerly hurried down the street to her mother to give her the bottle that would make her well.

• • •

The door of the shop jingled again and this time in stepped a gaudy figure of a girl with flashing eyes and a coat of pure white fur.

She smiled brightly and looked around at all the items on the shelves, busily scanning through everything all at once.

“What can I do for you, young lady?” Mr. Agape asked, taking note that the girl was quickly moving and not seeming to find.

“Oh, I don’t know,” the girl answered

truthfully, cocking her head to one side. “Let’s see…a bottle of perfume, I think. I must smell splendidly good for the party tonight.”

“Ah, the party!” Mr. Agape caught his breath. “And do you remember Who we celebrate for?”

The girl shrugged. “All I know is that it’s a party. I love partying. It’s so thrilling.”

“The reason of the celebration, my dear,” Mr. Agape said firmly but gently, “is that we set aside a day in which to celebrate our Savior’s coming into this world. Without the birth of that Baby we would have no peace.”

The girl smiled crookedly. “I suppose I remember now. It’s so hard to remember everything though when your head whirls both night and day.”

“Then you must want this perfume.” Mr. Agape pulled out a crystal bottle of pale pink liquid labeled: Peace. “It’s free. Take it. And may you never forget the reason of this great celebration.”

The girl took the bottle, stared at the man with a confused sort of look, and numbly thanked him. Then, with a flash of her boots she left the shop with a very different state of mind. Here in her hands rested the finest perfume she had ever held and…for free.

The door jingled as it closed.