I Like Giving by Brad Formsma

Author:Brad Formsma [Formsma, Brad]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60142-576-8
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2014-02-17T16:00:00+00:00

Learning to recognize that nudge to give and then asking a few questions has been a process for me. I still don’t get it right every time, but a few tactful questions seem to help.

Of course, a gift doesn’t need to be as large and expensive as a water heater or an iPhone. Just be mindful to be a blessing. Sometimes the perfect gift can look a little smaller—as small as a banana cream pie.

I LIKE BANANA CREAM PIE: SHANE

The day before Thanksgiving my wife sent me to a large grocery store with an even larger grocery list. Though she’d already texted me several times, reminding me not to forget the plastic utensils and to hurry home, I decided to make a slight detour. Last on the list was dessert. “Just some cupcakes or cookies,” she’d said. “Nothing fancy.” But I didn’t want to bring home just any old dessert. I wanted a banana cream pie.

Next to the grocery store there was a small pie shop. Inside, glass cases housed rows of personal-sized chocolate, lemon meringue, blueberry, cherry, and peach pies. There were cheesecakes and key lime pies and every sweet filling that could ooze over a crumbling crust. When I finally spotted one banana cream pie, I rejoiced. It was the last one left, just for me.

I loaded up a dozen small pies and headed toward the checkout counter. But just then the bell on the front door jingled softly. A father and his three children walked in, talking merrily about what pies they might choose on this special trip. The man looked tired, but his youngest son walked directly past me and planted his hands on the case. With his nose touching the glass, eyes as wide as saucers, he exclaimed, “I know exactly what I want!” He looked up at the woman behind the counter. “Banana cream please!”

The woman answered gruffly, “We’re out.” And in that moment the boy’s face morphed from pure glee to ultimate despair.

“You’ll have to choose something else,” his father explained.

Turning toward the boy’s father, I admitted I was the culprit—I was the one who’d taken the last banana cream pie. I told him I’d be glad to give the pie to his son, but only on one condition: only if I could pay for their pies.

Immediately the man waved his arms in front of his body as if there was a bad smell in the air and said they couldn’t possibly accept. He said he appreciated the gesture, but it wasn’t necessary.

His son stood back, bewildered, arms at his side, eyes drooping in sadness. How could his father turn down a banana cream pie—and one that was free?

I explained once more that no strings were attached. That usually I like to give anonymously, but that today I wanted to give up my pie for his son. Reluctantly the father finally accepted.

When I handed the boy the last banana cream pie, he held it in his hands delicately. He unsnapped the plastic top and sniffed the pie greedily.

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