Half a Gift
I was ten years old then , and my brother Nick was fourteen. For both
of us this purchase of gift for our mother on Mother’s Day was an occasion
of excitement and great importance.
Our mother worked from early morning till late night, cooking , buying,
washing and looking after us in illness.
“What are you going to give her”, asked Father.
“We’re going to give separate presents”, I announced importantly.
Nick and I discussed what to buy. We became involved in a competition
of taste.
“Let’s not tell each other what we’re getting “, said Nick.
After careful deliberation I bought for my mother a comb decorated with
little shiny stones that could even be mistaken for diamonds. Nick came
back from the store with a pleased look. He liked my gift very much and
wouldn’t tell me about his. He only said :” I’ve picked a certain moment
when I’ll give my gift.”
The next morning Nick kept me close and when my mother got ready to
wash the floor he nodded to me and we ran get our gifts.
When I came back , Mother was , us usual , on her knees, wearily
scrubbing the floor. It was the job she hated most in the world.
Then Nick returned with his present, and Mother sat back on her heels,
staring unbelievingly at the gift. Her face went pale with disappointment
as she looked at the new scrubbing pail with the fresh mop in it.
“ A Mother’s Day gift of a scrubbing pail” , her voice almost broke.
Tears sprang to Nick’s eyes. Without a word he picked up the scrubbing
pail and mob and blindly trudged down the stairs. I put the comb in my
pocket and ran after him .He was crying and I felt so bad I began to cry ,
too.
On the way down we met Father . Nick could not talk , so I explained.
“It’s a fine gift. A wonderful gift.”
We all went upstairs where Mother was still scrubbing the floor.
Without a word Father soaked the puddle of dirty water up with the mob and
showed us how to use it.
“ You didn’t let Nick finish”, he said to Mother. “ Part of his gift
was that he was going to wash the floor from now on.” He looked at Nick .”
Isn’t that so Nick?”
With a flush of shame Nick understood the lesson. “ Yes, yes”, he said
in a low eager tone.
“ Ah , a woman can become so stupid”. She kissed Nick and he felt
better. Then she turned to me: “ What is your gift?” asked Father. Nick
looked at me and paled. I felt the comb in my pocket. The comb with shining
stones would make the scrubbing pail , again , just a scrubbing pail. “
Half the scrubbing pail”, I said and Nick looked at me with love in his
eyes.
(After Robert Zaks)
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