Del.icio.us
Digg
Reddit
Facebook
StumbleUpon
TwitThisBack to Childhood
Gift ExchangeI was in my 20s and living in the Bay Area. That Christmas, I had a houseful of toys from a gag gift exchange party and more individually wrapped cookies and candies from Costco than I planned to eat.
I got up Christmas morning to go running. Outside my apartment, I noticed a man sitting on the sidewalk. He wasn't dressed like a homeless person. But an hour later when I returned, he was still there, holding a sign that asked for toys for his kids, which he couldn't afford.
We talked. He worked nearby, while his family lived in Northern California -- and he was too ashamed to go home empty-handed.
My mind raced to my holiday party -- all those toys and treats! I ran inside and brought an armful out. His face lit up. "My daughter will love this doll," he said. I ran back inside to see what else I could find, but when I returned, he was gone. I hope he was on his way home. I'm a parent now. I can imagine how stressful it would be not to be able to give your children toys on Christmas.
Susan Wojcicki, director of product management at Google
Maha and Dad
My father took Yom Kippur, the most important Jewish holy day, very seriously. He fasted for 24 hours and spent all day in the synagogue.
During his last year, Dad, who'd undergone five quadruple bypasses, stayed with me. My 15-year-old dog, Maha, seemed to sense that Dad wouldn't live much longer and followed him around protectively. Dad fell in love with him.
Maha was himself ailing. When X rays revealed a brain tumor, the vet gave him six weeks to live. But he hung on for a year, keeping me from feeling too sad about my father, keeping Dad company.
After my father died of a heart attack, Maha worsened. On the eve of Yom Kippur, he had a terrible seizure, and I made the painful decision to have him put to sleep.
Late that afternoon, Maha and I lay on the veterinarian's steel bed together. As he was crossing over, he put his paws around me and kissed my face. I believe Maha chose that day to die as a tribute to my father. When I walked outside, there was a beautiful sunset marking the start of Yom Kippur.
Yom Kippur is a solemn day of atonement. But for me, it is also a day of gratitude for my time on earth with Dad and Maha.
Peggy Lipton, actress
A Set of Wheels
When I was growing up in East St. Louis, Ill., Christmas was the one time when we got what we wanted. When I was ten, I wanted a bike. All that summer, I'd ridden on my brother's handlebars -- a big "no-no." I hurt my arm once when he fell and I was thrown off. But I wanted to ride, badly.
I woke Christmas morning and the first thing I saw was a shiny white bike -- with my name on it! It was too cold outside to ride right away, but all that spring as the snow melted I wobbled back and forth on the porch. Finally, when the weather was warm, I took off to explore the neighborhood. That bike made me so happy.
So this past Christmas I wanted to bring the same happiness to 50 kids at my Boys & Girls Club in East St. Louis. We had a toy giveaway at the holiday party, but no one knew the bikes were there. At the end we unveiled them, and the kids were so excited I had tears in my eyes. It was like going back to childhood.
Jackie Joyner-Kersee, track and field star; advocate, Asthma Action America
Advertisement 
feeds instead
