O. Henry

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Retold by The Legendary Connection

TLC#00260

Once upon a time, there was a young woman named Della who sat by the window of her small apartment, counting her money. She had one dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was it. Sixty cents of it was in pennies she had saved little by little. She’d bargained hard with the grocer, the vegetable seller, and the butcher, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment each time. She counted it three times to be sure. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. Tomorrow was Christmas.

With a heavy heart, Della flopped down on the old, worn-out couch and burst into tears. Sometimes, life is like that — full of tears, sniffles, and smiles — and on this day, the tears came first.

When she’d cried herself out, Della wiped her face with a little powder rag, stood up, and looked around the apartment. It wasn’t much, just a small flat that cost eight dollars a week. The furniture was simple and old, but it was home. Downstairs in the entryway, there was a mailbox too small for letters and a doorbell that had long since stopped working. On the door was a card that read, “Mr. James Dillingham Young.” Back when Jim’s pay was thirty dollars a week, they’d been proud to write out the whole name. But now that he only earned twenty dollars a week, they’d started to think about shortening it to just “D.” Still, every evening when Jim came home, Della called him “Jim” and hugged him tight, and that’s all that really mattered.

Della stood by the window, staring out at a gray cat walking along a gray fence in the gray backyard. Tomorrow was Christmas, and all she had was one dollar and eighty-seven cents to buy Jim a gift. She’d saved every penny she could, but the money just wasn’t enough. She’d dreamed of getting him something special — something worthy of Jim.

Then, suddenly, Della’s eyes lit up. She ran to the mirror between the two windows and looked at herself. Her heart started to race. Quickly, she let down her long, beautiful brown hair. It fell past her knees, shining like a waterfall of silk. Jim loved her hair. It was one of the two things they both treasured most. The other was Jim’s gold pocket watch, which had belonged to his father and grandfather before him. If the Queen of Sheba lived next door, Della would have let her hair down just to show it off. If King Solomon had been the janitor, Jim would’ve pulled out his watch just to make him jealous.

Della’s hands trembled as she twisted her hair back up. She hesitated, tears welling in her eyes. Then, with a determined breath, she put on her old brown coat and hat and ran out the door.

She stopped in front of a shop with a sign that read, “Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds.” Della ran up the stairs and into the shop. Madame Sofronie, a large, pale woman, barely glanced at her.

“Will you buy my hair?” Della asked, her voice steady but her heart pounding.

“I buy hair,” Madame Sofronie replied. “Take off your hat and let’s see it.”

Della pulled down her hair, and it tumbled around her like a brown waterfall.

“Twenty dollars,” Madame said, lifting the hair with practiced fingers.

“Give it to me quick,” said Della.

The next two hours flew by as Della rushed through store after store, searching for the perfect gift for Jim. At last, she found it — a simple, elegant platinum watch chain. It was perfect, just like Jim. No flashy decorations, just quiet strength and beauty. She paid twenty-one dollars for it and held the little box tight as she hurried home with 87 cents left in her pocket.

Back at home, Della got to work curling her short hair into soft, tight curls. When she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror. She smiled bravely, but a tear slipped down her cheek. “If Jim doesn’t like me,” she whispered, “well, he’ll just have to get used to it. My hair grows fast.”

At 7 o’clock, she had coffee ready and the frying pan hot for dinner. She sat at the table, clutching the watch chain, listening for Jim’s footsteps. When she heard them on the stairs, her heart leapt and then suddenly she felt nervous. “Please, God,” she prayed quietly, “make him think I’m still pretty.”

The door opened, and Jim stepped inside. He looked tired, thin, and serious. He needed a new coat, and he didn’t have gloves. He stared at Della, his eyes fixed on her. She couldn’t read his face, and it frightened her.

“Jim, darling,” she cried, “don’t look at me that way! I cut my hair and sold it because I wanted to buy you a Christmas present. It’ll grow back! Please don’t be mad. Say Merry Christmas, Jim, and let’s be happy.”

“You cut your hair?” he asked, as if it were too much to believe.

“Yes, I cut it and sold it,” she said. “But I’m still me, right? And I’ll love you just the same.”

Jim’s eyes wandered around the room, as though looking for something.

“It’s gone, Jim,” Della said softly. “It’s gone for you. It’s Christmas Eve. Be kind to me.”

Suddenly, Jim smiled. He pulled a small package from his coat pocket and set it on the table.

“Don’t worry, Della,” he said. “No haircut or style could make me love you any less. But open that package, and you’ll see why I looked so surprised.”

With eager fingers, Della tore off the paper and string. Inside was a set of beautiful tortoiseshell combs with jeweled edges — the very combs she had admired in a store window for months. But her long hair was gone.

She hugged the combs to her heart, tears spilling down her cheeks. “My hair grows fast, Jim,” she said with a shaky smile.

Then, suddenly remembering, she jumped up and held out the watch chain. “Look, Jim! I found the perfect chain for your watch. Give me your watch so I can see how it looks!”

Jim sat down on the couch, grinning softly. “Della,” he said, “I sold my watch to buy your combs. Let’s put our gifts away for now and enjoy Christmas together.”

The wise men who brought gifts to the baby Jesus knew what they were doing. But these two, Jim and Della, were even wiser. They gave up their greatest treasures for each other out of love. And of all who give gifts, the ones who give with love are the wisest of all. They are the magi.

Original Soure: Henry, O. “The Gift of the Magi.” Https://Www.gutenberg.org/Files/7256/7256-h/7256-H.htm, 1 Jan. 2005, www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/7256/pg7256-images.html. web page author is Susan Ritchie.