10th Day, The Empty Box

Before you read this story I want to tell you what I did with it. I first read it in 2001. So that Christmas I decided I could paint a box and give it to my Grandma, my mother's mother, for Christmas. She and I were always close. I did change it a little bit. I asked my whole family to write down their favorite memory of my Grandma along with mine and put it in the box. So technically it wasn't empty. I gave it to her along with this story. I've never felt so good about a present before. I don't know how it touched her life or if it did. She passed away suddenly the next February. I talked with her the week before. My very last words to her were, "I love you." I am so grateful I felt inspired to give her that gift for Christmas for it was her last. I miss you Grandma.
Enjoy the Story, Merry Christmas.

The Empty Box
Even thought it was only September, the air was crisp and children were already whispering about Christmas plans and Santa Claus. It made the already long months until Christmas seem even longer. With each passing day, the children became more anxious, waiting for the final school bell. Upon its ringing everyone would run for coast, gloves and the classroom door, racing to see who would be the first one home; everyone except David.
David was a small boy with messy brown hair and tattered clothes. I had often wondered what kind of home life David had and often asked myself what kind of mother could send her son to school dressed so inappropriately for the cold weather months without coat, boots, or gloves. But something made David special. It wasn't his intelligence or manners for they were as laking as his winter clothes, but I never recall looking at David and not seeing a smile. He was always willing to help and not a day passed that David didn't stay after school to straighten chairs and clean erasers. We never talked much; he would just simply ask what else he could do. Then thank me for letting him stay and slowly head for home.
Weeks passed and the excitement over the coming Christmas grew into restlessness until the last day of school before the holiday breaks. I can't recall a more anxious group of children as that final bell rang and they scattered out the door. I smiled in relief as the last of them hurried out. Turning around, I saw David quietly standing by my desk. "Aren't you anxious to get home, David?" I asked. "No," HE quietly replied. Ready to go home myself I said, "Well, I think the chairs and erasers will wait, why don't you go home." "I have something for you", he said and pulled form behind his back a small box wrapped in old paper and tied with string. Handing it to me, he said anxiously, "open it!" I took the box from him, thanked him, and slowly unwrapped it. I lifted the lid and to my surprise saw nothing. I looked at David's smiling face and back into the empty box and said. "The box is nice, David, but ti's empty. " "Oh no it isn't," said David. "It's full of love. My mom told me before she died that love was something you couldn't touch or see unless you know it's there...can you see it?" Tears filled my eyes as I looked at the proud dirty face I had rarely give attention to. "Yes, David, I can see it," I replied. "Thank you."
David and I became good friends after that Christmas and I can say that with the passing years, I never again let the uncombed hair or dirty face bother me, and I never forgot the meaning behind the little empty box that sat on my desk.