the gift of magi .. part one

ONE DOLLAR AND EIGHTY-SEVEN CENTS.

That was all. She had put it aside, one cent and then another and then

another, in her careful buying of meat and other food. Della counted

it three times. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day

would be Christmas.

There was nothing to do but fall on the bed and cry. So Della did it.

While the lady of the home is slowly growing quieter, we can

look at the home. Furnished rooms at a cost of $8 a week. There is lit-

tle more to say about it.

In the hall below was a letter-box too small to hold a letter. There

was an electric bell, but it could not make a sound. Also there was a

name beside the door: “Mr. James Dillingham Young.”

When the name was placed there, Mr. James Dillingham Young

was being paid $30 a week. Now, when he was being paid only $20 a

week, the name seemed too long and important. It should perhaps have

been “Mr. James D. Young.” But when Mr. James Dillingham Young

entered the furnished rooms, his name became very short indeed. Mrs.

James Dillingham Young put her arms warmly about him and called

him “Jim.” You have already met her. She is Della.

Della finished her crying and cleaned the marks of it from her face.

She stood by the window and looked out with no interest. Tomorrow

would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy

Jim a gift. She had put aside as much as she could for months, with this

result. Twenty dollars a week is not much. Everything had cost more

than she had expected. It always happened like that.

Only $ 1.87 to buy a gift for Jim. Her Jim. She had had many happy

hours planning something nice for him. Something nearly good enough.

Something almost worth the honor of belonging to Jim.

There was a looking-glass between the windows of the room. Per-

haps you have seen the kind of looking-glass that is placed in $8 fur-

nished rooms. It was very narrow. A person could see only a little of

himself at a time. However, if he was very thin and moved very quickly,

he might be able to get a good view of himself. Della, being quite thin,

had mastered this art.

Suddenly she turned from the window and stood before the glass.

Her eyes were shining brightly, but her face had lost its color. Quickly

she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its complete length.

The James Dillingham Youngs were very proud of two things which

they owned. One thing was Jim’s gold watch. It had once belonged to

his father. And, long ago, it had belonged to his father’s father. The

other thing was Della’s hair.

If a queen had lived in the rooms near theirs, Della would have

washed and dried her hair where the queen could see it. Della knew

her hair was more beautiful than any queen’s jewels and gifts.

If a king had lived in the same house, with all his riches, Jim would

have looked at his watch every time they met. Jim knew that no kinghad anything so valuable.

So now Della’s beautiful hair fell about her, shining like a falling

stream of brown water. It reached below her knee. It almost made itself

into a dress for her.

And then she put it up on her head again, nervously and quickly.

Once she stopped for a moment and stood still while a tear or two ran

down her face.

She put on her old brown coat. She put on her old brown hat.

With the bright light still in her eyes, she moved quickly out the door

and down to the street.

Where she stopped, the sign said: “Mrs. Sofronie. Hair Articles

of all Kinds.”

Up to the second floor Della ran, and stopped to get her breath.

Mrs. Sofronie, large, too white, cold-eyed, looked at her.

“Will you buy my hair?” asked Della.

“I buy hair,” said Mrs. Sofronie. “Take your hat off and let me look

at it.”

Down fell the brown waterfall.

“Twenty dollars,” said Mrs. Sofronie, lifting the hair to feel its

weight.

“Give it to me quick,” said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours seemed to fly. She was going from

one shop to another, to find a gift for Jim.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one

else. There was no other like it in any of the shops, and she had looked

in every shop in the city.

It was a gold watch chain, very simply made. Its value was in its

rich and pure material. Because it was so plain and simple, you knew that it was very valuable. All good things are like this.

It was good enough for The Watch.

As soon as she saw it, she knew that Jim must have it. It was like

him. Quietness and value—Jim and the chain both had quietness and

value. She paid twenty-one dollars for it. And she hurried home with

the chain and eighty-seven cents.

Disclaimer: this story doesn't belong to me . I have just conveyed a beautiful story that deserves more appreciation to all those readers.

Adapted from "The gift of Magi" by O. Henry...

~By Ash

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