Jeremy Hampden has a large circle of friends and is very popular at parties. Everybody admires him for his great sense of humor — everybody, that is, except his six-year-old daughter, Jenny. Recently, one of Jeremy’s closest friends asked him to make a speech at a wedding reception. This is the sort of thing that Jeremy loves. He prepared the speech carefully and went to the wedding with Jenny. He had included a large number of funny stories in the speech and, of course, it was a great success. But as soon as he had finished, Jenny said to him, “Daddy, I don’t want to stay here any longer, even one more minute! Daddy, let’s go home.” Jeremy was a little disappointed by this but he did as his daughter asked.

On the way home, there was a long silence between them.

He was fifteen years old and still on his father's farm. He loved his father. He had not known it until one day a few days before Christmas, when he had overheard what his father was saying to his mother. “Mary, I hate to call Rob in the mornings. He's growing so fast and he needs his sleep. If you could see how he sleeps when I go in to wake him up! I wish I could manage alone.”

“Well, you can't, Adam.” His mother's voice was brisk, “Besides, he isn't a child anymore. It's time he took his turn to help milk the cow.”

“Yes,” his father said slowly. “But I sure do hate to wake him.”

When he heard these words, something in him spoke: his father loved him! He had never thought of it before, taking the tie of their blood for granted. Now that he knew his father loved him, he got up, stumbling blind with sleep and pulled on his clothes.

And then on the night before Christmas, that year when he was fifteen, he lay for a few minutes thinking about the next day. He wished he had a better present for his father instead of the usual tie from the ten - cent store. He lay on his side and looked out of his attic window.

A thought struck him like a silver dagger. Why should he not give his father a special gift, out there in the barn (畜棚)? He could get up early, earlier than four O'clock, and he could creep into the barn and get all the milking done. He laughed to himself as he gazed at the stars. It was what he would do, and he mustn't sleep too soundly.

He must have awakened twenty times.

Back in his room he had only a minute to jump into bed, for he heard his father up.

I suppose everyone has a particular childhood Christmas that stands out more than any other. For me, it was the year that the Burlington factory closed down. Small child as I was, the events of that Christmas will live forever in my heart.

My father, who had been employed at Burlington, never, let us know that we were having financial difficulties. We knew only that our daddy, who usually worked long, difficult hours, was now home more than we had ever remembered.

Mama, a homemaker, now sought work in the local textile mills, but jobs were scarce. Therefore, daddy’s unemployment check would now be our family’s only source of income. I don’t know for sure how they managed, but some how they did. They made sure they scraped together enough money to buy each of us a Barbie doll. For the rest of our presents, they would rely on their talents, using waste materials they already had.

While dark, rough hands sawed, hammered and painted, flexible fingers fed dress after dress after dress into the sewing machine. Barbie-sized clothes for every imaginable occasion pushed forward from the old machine. Where we were while all of this was taking place, I have no idea. But somehow my parents found time to pour themselves into our gifts, and the excitement of Christmas was once again born for the entire family.

That Christmas Eve, the sun was just setting over the distant horizon when I heard the roar of an unexpected motor in the driveway. Looking outside, I could hardly believe my eyes. Aunt Charlene and Uncle Buck had driven all the way from Georgia to surprise us. Packed tightly in their car, as though no air was needed, sat my three cousins. I also couldn’t help but notice many gifts for all of us, all neatly packaged and tied with beautiful bows. They had known that it would be a difficult Christmas, and they had come to help. The next morning we awoke to more gifts than I ever could have imagined — mountains of gifts among all that excitement and laughter.

Daddy decided not to give us his gifts.

They were wooden boxes that can be used as a house to store a Barbie doll.