by Jim Stovall
Laurie articulated her platform. “The street lights are out, the school needs to be painted, there are scary people on my street, and everybody is always fighting.”
The reporter followed up, asking, “Well, Laurie, what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to change it,” Laurie proclaimed in a manner that convinced me to mark my ballot for her. I wouldn’t be surprised to have the opportunity to vote for Laurie in the future.
The weekend offered some needed rest, but far too soon Monday rolled around, and everyone was back in their familiar places in my courtroom.
I called for order and stated, “Today, we are going to review The Gift of Giving as it was presented to Jason Stevens by his grandfather. This court will hear evidence with respect to whether Jason Stevens has an understanding and working knowledge of his grandfather’s wishes regarding The Gift of Giving. As usual, we will first hear from Mr. Hamilton, representing Jason Stevens.”
Jason took his place in the witness box and, as directed by Mr. Hamilton, explained that Red Stevens had challenged him—each day of the month—to find people to give gifts to that came from Jason, himself. These could not be gifts bought by the money provided to Jason by his grandfather but instead had to be something from Jason.
Hamilton inquired, “So what did you do?”
Jason said, “Well, I found things that I could get on my own or already had that I could give away.”
Hamilton nodded and said, “Can you share them with us?”
Jason pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. He unfolded it and read, “On the first day, I stopped at a shopping center and found a parking space on the first row. As I was getting out of my car, I noticed an elderly couple looking for a space. I backed out and allowed them to park in my space, and I parked in the back of the lot.
“On the second day, I got caught downtown in a thunderstorm. I shared my umbrella with a young lady who didn’t have one. One the third day, I went to the hospital and donated a pint of blood. On day four, I called a man in my neighborhood who had told me he needed to buy new tires. I let him know there was a really good sale going on across town. On day five, I helped an elderly woman carry her packages to her car. On day six, I agreed to watch a neighbor’s children for her while she went out with some friends. On day seven, I went to the Center for the Blind and read articles to visually impaired students. On day eight, I served lunch at the soup kitchen, and on day nine I wrote a note and sent a poem to a friend.
“On day ten, I agreed to take my neighbor’s kids to school. On day eleven, I helped box and move donated items for the Salvation Army. On days twelve and thirteen, I let some visiting foreign exchange students stay in my home. On day fourteen, I helped a local Scout troop with their weekly meeting. On day fifteen, I found a man with a dead battery and jump-started his car. On day sixteen, I wrote letters for several people who were in the hospital. On day seventeen, I went to the local animal shelter and walked several of their dogs in the park. On day eighteen, I gave the frequent flyer miles I had earned with an airline to a high school band planning a trip to a parade in California. Day nineteen, I worked with a local service organization and delivered meals to disabled people.
“Days twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, and twenty-three, I took a group of inner-city kids who had never been camping and fishing on a trip with the Scout troop. I had never been camping or fishing either. On day twenty-four, I helped a local church with their rummage sale. Days twenty-five and twenty-six, I worked with a crew on a Habitat for Humanity house. Day twenty-seven, I let a local charity group use my home for a reception. Day twenty-eight, I helped one of my neighbors rake the leaves out of his yard. Day twenty-nine, believe it or not, I helped to bake cookies for the elementary school’s bake sale.”
Theodore J. Hamilton actually applauded as he stood in front of the witness box. He said, “Very impressive, son, but what did you do on day thirty?”
Jason chuckled and replied, “Well, Mr. Hamilton, if you’ll remember I gave some of the leftover cookies I had baked for the bake sale to you and Miss Hastings.”
“Yes, you did,” Hamilton remarked. “And I can attest to the fact that they were quite delicious. No more questions.”
Hamilton retreated to his seat as Dudly prepared to attack.
“Mr. Stevens, what would you say—in your opinion—was the combined monetary value of all the gifts on your little list there?” Dudly pointed to Jason’s paper as if it were unclean.
Jason looked bewildered, shrugged, and said, “Well, sir, I don’t have any idea.”
Dudly pressed. “Wouldn’t you agree that most of those items had little, if any, relative worth in the real world?”
“Probably,” Jason admitted.
“Then how can you hope to manage several billion dollars, based on that?” Dudly jabbed his finger toward the page in Jason’s hand.
Jason pondered for several moments then said, “My grandfather told me to give away things I had gotten on my own. I didn’t have any choice but to give away a part of myself.” Jason paused, found his stride, and continued. “But I think it’s a lot easier to manage money than it is to manage ourselves.”
Dudly looked at Jason and appeared shocked. “You have got to be kidding.” He looked at the ceiling and held out his hands palm upward as if he were imploring the heavens for relief from this absurdity.
I finally had to interrupt the theatrics, asking, “Mr. Dudly, do you have any other questions for this witness?”
Dudly intoned dramatically, “No, Your Honor. This matter seems more than clear.”
Dudly sat down.
I nodded to Jason, thanked him for his testimony, and told him he could step down. I organized my thoughts into a ruling and spoke. “The last will and testament of Howard ‘Red’ Stevens called for his grandson to give away something of himself each and every day for a month. It is the finding of this court that Mr. Jason Stevens duly accomplished this task.
“During the next thirty days, he will be given the opportunity to demonstrate that he can pass along The Gift of Giving to others.”
My gavel sounded with finality, and I made my way through the mahogany door into the private world of my chambers. I leaned against the monstrous desk and wondered if I could think of something of myself to give away every day for a month.
I watched Red Stevens appear on the screen before me and discuss The Gift of Giving.
“This month, I want you to learn about The Gift of Giving. This is another one of those paradoxical principles like we talked about several months ago. Conventional wisdom would say that the less you give, the more you have. The converse is true. The more you give, the more you have. Abundance creates the ability to give; giving creates more abundance. I don’t mean this simply in financial terms. This principle is true in every area of your life.
“It is important to be a giver and a receiver. Jason, financially, I have given you everything that you have in this world. But, I violated the principle involved in The Gift of Giving. I gave you money and things out of a sense of obligation not a true spirit of giving. You received those things with an attitude of entitlement and privilege instead of gratitude. Our attitudes have robbed us both of the joy involved in The Gift of Giving.
“It is important when you give something to someone that it be given with the right spirit, not out of a sense of obligation. I’ve learned to give to people my whole life. I cannot imagine being deprived of the privilege of giving things and part of myself to other people.
“One of the key principles in giving, however, is that the gift must be yours to give—either something you earned or created or maybe, simply, part of yourself.”
During that whole month, I looked at giving and receiving in ways I never had.
Even though I had seen it once before, the sight still amazed me. I
took my seat in the courtroom, pounded my gavel, and called the court to order. I smiled at everyone assembled and said, “I want to welcome everyone to these proceedings. The law is a sacred part of our lives and culture. I’m always glad to see people participate in the process.”
Once again, running from front to back on either side of my courtroom and standing shoulder to shoulder against the back wall were the single moms who had appeared in my courtroom once before during The Gift of Money hearing.
I motioned to Mr. Hamilton and Jason Stevens, and they took their places and opened the proceedings.
Hamilton inquired, “Jason, over the past month, have you had the opportunity to share The Gift of Giving as outlined by your grandfather, Howard ‘Red’ Stevens, with other people?”
Jason nodded and said, “Yes.”
“Please fill us in on your progress,” Hamilton said.
Jason gazed down the long line of single women who made an amazing silent statement just by being there, then he began. “I tried to think about The Gift of Giving and felt giving should be both creative and automatic. It needs to be something we constantly think about in new ways; but, on the other hand, it’s important to develop the habit of giving regularly.”
Jason looked up at me and said, “As you know, when we talked about The Gift of Money I set up a sort of financial class for all the single moms participating in the day-care co-op and support group. Those classes have continued, and we’ve learned that we should always do three things with every dollar we receive.
“We should first save some so that we will have money for hard and difficult times or special opportunities. Second, we should spend some to wisely and prudently take care of our immediate and future needs. And, finally, we should regularly and consistently give away a part of each dollar.
“When we discussed giving among the single moms, there was a lot of frustration, because they are on such tight budgets there was a feeling that they couldn’t really accomplish anything with their individual gifts.”
Jason smiled and looked around the perimeter of the room with anticipation.
Hamilton smiled as well and asked, “So what did you do, Jason?”
Jason announced, “All of the single moms in the group got together and pooled their money. Collectively, they have made a monthly pledge toward building a community center with day-care facilities at the Howard ‘Red’ Stevens Urban Park.”
Jason reached into the inner breast pocket of his jacket and drew out an envelope. He continued, “Here is their first check written from the Single Moms Benevolence Fund and made out to the Howard ‘Red’ Stevens Urban Park Community Center.”
A cheer rose from the single moms around the courtroom.
Old Judge Eldridge had always stressed to me the important responsibility of keeping order in the court. Somehow I knew he was looking down on us and would approve of the fact that I let the applause run its full course.
Hamilton waved at the single moms, thanked Jason, and turned the witness over to Mr. Dudly.
Dudly asked, “Mr. Stevens, do you have an estimate of the cost of this community center with day-care facilities to be built at this so-called park?”
Jason displayed an impish grin and clarified. “Mr. Dudly, do you mean the Howard ‘Red’ Stevens Urban Park where we are going to build the community center with the day-care facilities?”
“Yes, whatever,” Dudly responded impatiently.
Jason continued. “Yes, I have a preliminary estimate, and it will cost several hundred thousand dollars. We are factoring in some of the variables and details to get a final number.”
“So how long will it take for …” Dudly waved his hand at the ladies standing around the room and continued, “… you to pay for such a center with these monthly checks?”
“Not nearly as long as it would take without these checks,” Jason stated.
Another cheer rose from the single moms. I halfheartedly tapped my gavel but wanted to applaud, myself.
Dudly tried to ignore the display dismissively and said, “No further questions.”
I tried to look each of the single moms in the eye as I slowly gazed around the room.
I spoke directly to them, “Many times in this courtroom I am called upon to make a ruling because it is my sworn duty and my legal obligation. While this ruling is, indeed, my duty and obligation, it is also my distinct pleasure to acknowledge the contribution made by each of you …” I looked at the single moms, smiled, and continued, “… in this matter and to rule on behalf of Jason Stevens in the portion of this case relating to The Gift of Giving.”
As I dismissed the court, a third and more rousing cheer erupted.
It had been a good day.
Gratitude provides a balance between the things we have and those we want.
Twelve
THE LIFE OF GRATITUDE
One of the cable news channels carried a live remote broadcast of the groundbreaking ceremonies for the community center and day-care complex in the Howard “Red” Stevens Urban Park. Jason spoke briefly but allowed the spotlight to shine on the group of single moms who had committed funds and the residents of the community who had built the park.
I will never forget a statement made by one of the single moms. She timidly approached the lectern, stared into the blinding TV lights, and said, “In a lot of ways, life has not been kind to me. I have three children, aged two, five, and seven, and I work two jobs just to make ends meet. This park has become a safe haven where my kids and I can come to play and just spend time together. The community center with day-care facilities will mean my family—and others to come—will have opportunities that have just not been around for us.
“But more important than the change in the neighborhood is the change that has taken place inside of me. I have spent many bitter years waiting for someone else to do something for me. Now I get up every day and think about what I can do for myself and what I can do for others around me.”
From my chamber window, I could view the park in the distance with the crowd surrounding the temporary platform and a number of satellite trucks ringing the perimeter. It made me think about the possibilities for my own life. It would be hard to calculate the difference we can make in the world if we simply select a goal, make a beginning, and keep on going.
In preparation for my day in court, I located the DVD marked The Gift of Gratitude. I slid it into the player as I anticipated Red Stevens’ message for his grandson.
“When you prepare your will and a video like this, you automatically have to think about your entire life. I have been so many places and experienced so many things, it is hard to remember that I have only lived one lifetime.
“I remember, as a young man, being so poor that I had to do day labor for food to eat and had to sleep along the side of the road. I also remember being in the company of kings and presidents and knowing all of the material things this life has to offer. As I look back, I am thankful for it all.
“During what, at the time, I considered to be some of my worst experiences, I gained my fondest memories.
“Jason, this month, you are going to learn a lesson that encompasses something that has been totally lacking in your life. That is gratitude.
“I have always found it ironic that the people in this world who have the most to be thankful for are often the least thankful, and somehow the people who have virtually nothing, many times live lives full of gratitude.
“While still in my youth, shortly after going out on my own to conquer the world, I met an elderly gentleman who today would be described as homeless. Back then, there were a lot of people who rode the rails, traveling throughout the country doing just a little bit of work here and there in order to get by. It was during the Depression, and some of these so-called hobos or tramps were
well educated and had lives full of rich experiences.
“Josh and I traveled together for almost a year. He seemed very old at that time, but since I was still in my teens, I may have had a faulty perspective. He is one of the only people I ever met of whom I could honestly say, ‘He never had a bad day.’ Or if he did, there was certainly no outward sign of it. Traveling about as we did, we often found ourselves wet, cold, and hungry. But Josh never had anything but the best to say to everyone we met.
“Finally, when I decided to settle down in Texas and seek my fortune there, Josh and I parted company. Settling down was simply not a priority in his life. When we parted, I asked him why he was always in such good spirits. He told me that one of the great lessons his mother had left him was the legacy of The Golden List.
“He explained to me that every morning before he got up, he would lie in bed—or wherever he had been sleeping—and visualize a golden tablet on which was written ten things in his life he was especially thankful for. He told me that his mother had done that all the days of her life and that he had never missed a day since she shared about The Golden List with him.
“Well, as I stand here today, I am proud to say I haven’t missed a day since Josh shared the process with me almost sixty years ago. Some days I am thankful for the most trivial things, and other days I feel a deep sense of gratitude for my life and everything surrounding me.
“Jason, today, I am passing the legacy of The Golden List on to you. I know that it has survived well over one hundred years simply being passed from Josh’s mother through Josh to me, and now to you. I don’t know how Josh’s mother discovered the process, so its origins may go back much further than I know.
“In any event, I am passing it on to you, and if you will be diligent in the beginning, before long it will simply become a natural part of your life, like breathing.”
Once again, I called the court to order in the matter of the last will and testament of Howard “Red” Stevens. After the formalities were out of the way and Jason Stevens had taken the stand, the legendary Theodore J. Hamilton went to work.
