“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Jim slowly. He seemed to labor to understand what had happened. He seemed not to feel sure he knew...

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful gift. She held it out to him in her open hand. The gold seemed to shine softly as if with her own warm and loving spirit.

“Isn’t it perfect, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at your watch a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how they look together.”

Jim sat down and smiled. “Della,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas gifts away and keep them
a while. They’re too nice to use now. I sold the watch to get the money to buy the combs. And now I think we should have our dinner.”

The ironic end of O. Henry's archetypical Christmas story of giving, The Gift of the Magi, always makes the usual-manly me tear up because of the dual sacrifice both Della and Jim made in trying to get their partner the best gift ever.  How sad that they both gave up their most valuable possession, only to find out that their gift was effectively useless to the other.  O. Henry ends the parable with letting us know that these two and their seemingly foolish exchanges, were among the most wise of all of us, modern day magi who know the true spirit of giving.

If you are like me, you have probably never had such a moment during the holidays like Della and Jim had, but this year I had one of the most meaningful gifts I ever received from somebody I have never formally met, who believes that in the same sense that I have given them a most meaningful gift by being somebody who listened and helped her when many others wouldn't. 

The story begins on a very sad note on the night of October 3, 2016. Cordie Howlett, a 54 year old man, is struck from behind and killed by an impaired driver while riding his bicycle home on a well-lit street.  The hit-and-run accident would eventually be solved by the local police thanks in large part to the victim's sister, Kelly, taking a very active role in prodding them-- after Cordie's family was notified inexcusably late.  

  

In the course of running into official brick walls in pursuit of justice in the Oakland County halls of justice, Kelly came across an article on the Ludington Torch I published in November 2016 titled An Open Letter to Oakland County Prosecutor Jessica Cooper.  In the piece, I had roundly chided that county's prosecutor for lying, violating the FOIA, and cherry-picking prosecutions.  Kelly joined the LT, sent me a message with a heartfelt synopsis of what she was going through with the local police and prosecutor, and thanked me for listening.  

After a prompt reply, we began a series of correspondences which were enlightening for both of us.  I consulted with her about the FOIA and gave her some other insights and general legal advice, but I sense that the best thing I gave her was an affirmation of her beliefs that Cordie was victimized not only by the driver and his henchman passenger, but by the often uncaring police, media and court system.  Kelly had believed the best of these agencies her whole life, but had these beliefs shattered in trying to get justice for her brother, even before talking to me. 

I helped her through that transition, by doing what I do best:  burrowing through the garbage to get to the truth, and that truth was favorable towards Cordie and her instincts.  In a few weeks, I published Cordie's tragic story, and compared how officials and media handled that with how they handled an accident where a driver who was neither at fault nor drunk was held to a much higher standard of justice because the victim was a state trooper, not an invisible member of society.

Thus began a yearlong collaboration on various issues, most involving her quest for justice for her brother, a very noble cause.  In the process, she has made a memorial page on Facebook for her brother, a blogspot, and other acts of commemoration:

As she has come to terms with her loss this last year, she contacted me and expressed a desire to make something special for me for helping her through all the bells and whistles.  She had been running a quilting and embroidery supply business, and knew quite a bit about the topic.  She offered to make a special quilt for me to show appreciation for helping her through the dark times that followed Cordie's death and dealing with all the official nonsense.

I thought it was a capital idea, and I supplied her with a couple of ideas of design to personalize it for me.  After some quilt consultations, and a scaling back of the quilt, the summer ended and I heard little more about it through the fall.  Quilting projects are time-consuming especially when the quilter is left to their own devices as to the overall design.  I half expected that she may get bogged down by the project or that she would get back to her normal routine of living her life.

Which was why I was pleasantly surprised and excited when I saw a notification from the US Postal Service on my E-mail telling me that a package was on it's way to me from her, sent a year after she had initially contacted me wanting my help.  I got it on the very last day, Saturday December 23, and I can't tell you how much I wanted to rip the box open and see what was inside, but my keeper/trainer said I couldn't until she was there and it was at least Christmas Eve.  

When I did open it, it was with an avaricious zeal I had not quite experienced since a time long, long ago when I believed in Santa Claus; I wasn't disappointed.  Inside was a scaled back version of the original quilt project, with three wall hangings.  One had a mockup of my iconic icon with a Mickey Mouse vampire face on a pumpkin with 'XLFD' underneath it and a black background.  Another had a torch with very realistic flames on it.  The last, the smallest in size, is seen in the scan below, minus the black fringe.

Behind each wall-hanging was a simple message on a white tag:  "Made for Tom Rotta, Thank you for your kindnesses, they will never be forgotten.  By Kelly 2017"  The euphoria of getting such high quality handmade gifts and praise that I probably didn't deserve buoyed me with a Christmas spirit all through the next day.

Yet, there was an underlying melancholy that dragged me down shortly after admiring the three perfect gifts.  I could never give her back the three gifts she deserved.  To have her brother back, to restore her faith in the justice system, and to be able to have the life and perspective she had before she got the terrible news.

That usual-manly guy teared up again in frustration.  Had either of those gifts been achievable to give for me, I would surely not have these priceless gifts; yet I would give them all and a lot more away for her to enjoy the pleasure of having her brother back.  

And here I have told you the story of two children who were not wise... But let me speak a last word to the wise of these days: Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are the most wise. Everywhere they are the wise ones.
They are the magi.

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That's a wonderful story X. Any chance that you can post images of the other quilts?

Thanks, Willy.  I think 'XLFD' must stand for 'broken camera' in some language, because my last three cameras have unceremoniously went bad rather quick.  I will attempt to get somebody with a smart phone to grab an image, a scanner image would not do the bigger wall quilts justice.

Very beautiful and meaningful gifts.  My youngest has a Christmas fund at the local credit union over the last few years, and generally gets me a few puzzle books and toiletry items around the holidays.  They're appreciated, but the most meaningful and remembered gifts to me are all those singularly wonderful art projects she made either at school or at home especially for me before she felt compelled to spend money on presents.  Let's all be mindful that the little drummer boy had nothing to give other than his skill at drumming, and was rewarded with a smile, perhaps more than what the magi received in acknowledging their perfect gifts.

Very memorable gifts and great story X. Also, to IHAN, you help keep the Torch Burning Bright yourself, and thank you for your support and love for all our efforts these difficult days of life, Happy New Year.

Thanks a lot IHaveaNotion for regifting my gratitude and happiness, it means more to me than frankincense, myrrh and gold.  You have an abundance of wisdom that the magi would be impressed with.

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