{"id":818,"date":"2019-01-19T07:18:11","date_gmt":"2019-01-19T07:18:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/?p=818"},"modified":"2019-10-01T04:15:04","modified_gmt":"2019-10-01T04:15:04","slug":"the-gift-of-giving","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/2019\/01\/19\/the-gift-of-giving\/","title":{"rendered":"The Gift of Giving"},"content":{"rendered":"Reading Time: <\/span> 7<\/span> minutes<\/span><\/span>\n

Claxons blare and a red siren’s red light circles the room in earnest. The service dispatcher runs to the monitor, checks the screen, and says “Oh, my!” He picks up his microphone, depresses the button, and broadcasts, “We have a Christmas emergency over on Clayton Street. We still have a few hours before Christmas. Do I have a host that can run over there immediately?” <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What’s the nature of the emergency?” answers back an idle host.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“An old man writing down the ROI of his Christmas gifts.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Oh, my! What’s wrong with all these old men? I got this. I’m on my way. What’s his twenty?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

===\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer sits at his desk in his Santa hat and pajamas. An intense \ndesk lamp illuminates his pad of paper but little else. He has drawn a \ntable of three columns: Gift, Amount, and ROI. The ROI column is what \nset off all the Christmas alarms.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He has several rows under the column headers. His donation to the \nchildren’s hospital is one thousand dollars. His ROI is listed as a \nthank you form letter. It’s better than his ROI from last year’s \ndonation: a phone call every week and a letter every month asking for \nmore money. He lists the gifts to family and friends: Twenty gift cards \nat a one hundred dollars a pop for two thousand dollars. The ROI is \neight text messages saying thank you. A couple of misses he excuses \nbecause they are too young to have phones.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer doesn’t like his Christmas ROI. He takes a shot of \nwhiskey. He gets comfortable in his easy chair. He turns on Netflix. He \nfalls asleep watching Scrooged.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

====\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Ebenboozer! Ebenboozer! Ebenboozer stirs thinking maybe he drank one\n shot too many, again. He squirms uncomfortably in the chair mumbling \n“Go Away, Bad Dream, Go Away!”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The bad dream slaps him across the face, puts her hands on her hips. \nShe shouts “You stingy old bastard! What’s the meaning of this?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer opens his eyes. The ghostly vision gives him a start. He looks around. “The meaning of what? How’d you get in here?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman shakes the sheet of paper in front of his face. It’s his \nChristmas ROI list. Ebenboozer feels the acid of his stomach rise up in \nhis throat.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Good lord, woman, have you no decency? It’s Christmas!” He goes to \ngrab her arm with the intent of escorting her to the front door but his \nhand passes right through the apparition of his ex-wife. He waves his \narms at her but they pass right through.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She laughs. “You really screwed the pooch this time. Unbelievable! Evaluating the ROI of your Christmas gifts.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What’s wrong with that? I gave away a lot of money. I thought maybe I’d get something more than a Thank You out of it.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You moron. You gave money.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I don’t know what these kids want. It won’t go to waste.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You know better. Your ROI column says otherwise. It’s impersonal. \nYou give an impersonal gift, you get an impersonal response. Moron.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You said that already. Ug, you’re even nastier than I remember.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“And you are as cold as I remember.” She projects an image of all of \nhis online accounts draining into hers, laughing ecstatically.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer shouts, “You already sucked the life out of me once.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You will be visited by a ghost, this is your last chance at Christmas.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“How come I don’t get three?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Silence!” She turns into an older, uglier, meaner version of herself\n with a green apron, her hair up in curlers, pink fuzzy slippers, and a \nrolling pin. She lifts up the rolling pin over her head. She starts \nforward to implant it on his forehead, then disappears.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

====\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer wakes up in a cold sweat. “Oooooh, it was just a dream. \nOh, thank god. That woman. To think she scared the hell out of me even \nmore in real life.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He starts to pour himself another whiskey. A rush of wind knocks the \ntumbler from his thumb and forefinger just as he is about to tilt his \nhead back to down it.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Seriously?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wisps of a ghost in flowing robes glides past oblivious to Ebenboozer’s complaints. “I am the ghost of the gift of giving.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I already donated. I give plenty,” says Ebenboozer pointing to the first row in his Christmas ROI table.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You give the gift of money, not the gift of giving.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What do you mean?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The winds whirl, the room twirls and then disappears.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

====\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer stands in a room next to the ghost. It’s a single room \nflat made of concrete and crumbling plasterboard with splotches of pink \non the wall.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A young woman sits with her daughter at a small table with two \nchairs. The girl is too young to buy her mom a gift, but the mom has \nwrapped one for her to give. The two exchange gifts. The daughter slowly\n tears off the red Christmas paper from the box. Its a pair of silver \nearrings and a silver necklace. It’s her first jewelry. She beams. She \nwill wear the earrings until her ear gets puffy and the necklace for a \nmonth before taking it off. The mom gives herself a handbag and a \nplastic watch. When they are done, they give each other a hug and say \n“Merry Christmas”.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mom says to her daughter, “I’d really like to give some small gift to the street children. What do you think?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What street kids, mommy?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Kids that stay in the street and the public plaza. They don’t have a nice house, a warm bed like you and a school to go to.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“How do you find them?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I know where they go, outside by the bake shop to<\/g><\/g> beg for food. We could wrap up something like candles and biscuits, and wrap it up and make it nice.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“But we don’t have those things, mommy.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I know. I really want to help poor people.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You are nice, mommy. Where are their mommies? Do they live on the street too?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She doesn’t answer. She looks despondent.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

====\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ghost whirls takes the wallet from Ebenboozer’s pocket and sends \nthe young woman a hundred dollars. Ebenboozer tries to slap the wallet \nand card from the ghostly hands without success.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Hey! Hey! Stop that! This better be a figment of my imagination.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

====\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The little girl comes running up to her mom. “Look what I found! A hundred dollars!”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She hands the bill to her mom. Her mom stares. “It’s a gift for the \nstreet kids. In the morning, we’ll go buy some gifts and wrap them up \nand cook them spaghetti and deserts.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They go to sleep, laying together on a small single bed.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Great. So what’s the point of that? She’s not really giving them a gift, it’s my money, so I’m giving the gift.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ghost stares at him like he is an idiot.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“So now what?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ghost shuts its eyes and sleeps in the standing position.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer tries to do the same and falls over. He tries laying back \non one of the chairs and falls through to the hard floor. He tries going\n outside. There is only void. He has nothing to do but stand and wait.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

====\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The morning sun breaks into the room. The mom and daughter awaken. They run down to a small corner convenience store still open on Christmas day to pick up styrofoam containers for food, gift wrap, toys, and groceries. When they get back, they cook with a purpose. Then prepare the food containers. A dollop of spaghetti goes in one compartment of the container, a couple of baked treats in the other. The wrap all the toys in the red wrap garnished with pictures of golden ornaments and green trees. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

The mom and daughter and packaged goods and Ebenboozer and the ghost \nride on a scooter toward the plaza. She doesn’t find street kids but \nfinds an orphanage instead. She talks to the sister in charge, then she \nand her daughter carry in the gifts. They place the gift-wrapped toys on\n one side of a table and the food containers on another in a joyful \ndisplay of colorful red wrapping and white styrofoam.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The kids line up. She hands a gift and serving of food to each child.\n The children cradle their packages in their arms with a smile. She \nhands a gift to the children and asks, “Do you like Christmas?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One child responds “Christmas is our favorite! The loving and the \ngiving of gifts\/receiving of gifts, celebrating Jesus Birthday!”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another, “Christmas is my absolute favorite time of year! It’s not \nthe presents or food. It’s time spent with family. My family here in \norphanage!”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I love christmas it is my favorite holiday out of other days. \nChristmas is a happier time when jesus chrsit is born. And it is a time \nto gather around with family and have a wonderflu bleesed dinner on the \ntable! And also at the end opening up of our gifts all together make it \nthe most joyous holiday ever.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Christmas is the most fun, as we receive different gifts from \ndifferent people, and we can eat our favorite food such as spaghetti and\n friendchicken.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mom and daughter pose for pictures with the orphaned children and the Sister. The smile on all their faces is ear-to-ear.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer starts to gush up on the inside but fights it off. He says, “Ok, giving gifts to kids was pretty cool.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ghost slaps him across the face.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer shrieks, “What is with you ghosts and the slapping?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Listen,” commands the ghost. He points in the direction of the mom.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the last child opens her gift, a little tear falls from the mom’s eye.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her daughter asks, “Are you sad, mommy?”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mom says “I’m happy to give them a food and gifts to the kids who\n don’t have parents. I feel so lucky to receive this gift so that we can\n give. I see myself in the orphanage. I see myself without shelter to \nstand and food to eat. I am very blessed and would not ask for more.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer starts to gush again. He turns to hide his tear.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

====\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ebenboozer falls off his easy chair. It looks like the late afternoon already. He checks the time. Christmas day is almost over.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I thought you ghosts where supposed to do this in one night.”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His wallet is out on the table and his credit card is next to it. His phone shows a hundred dollar charge.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He picks up his sheet of paper with the ROI table on it. He marks off a<\/g> line for another row. Under gift, Ebenboozer writes “The gift of giving”. Next to it, he puts $100 dollars. In the ROI column, he writes priceless. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Presents<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Reading Time: <\/span> 7<\/span> minutes<\/span><\/span>Claxons blare and a red siren’s red light circles the room in earnest. The service dispatcher runs to the monitor, checks the screen, and says “Oh, my!” He picks up his microphone, depresses the button, and broadcasts, “We have a Christmas emergency over on Clayton Street. We still have a few hours before Christmas. Do […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":822,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[8,9,7],"class_list":["post-818","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-writing","tag-christmas","tag-ghosts","tag-scrooge"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/818","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=818"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/818\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1020,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/818\/revisions\/1020"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/822"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=818"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=818"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=818"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}