A Gift

 There once was a child who was given a gift. It was wrapped in colorful paper and his heart leapt when he came downstairs as saw it. He placed it on a nearby shelf and sat looking at the present. He imagined what it was and gave thanks for being given a gift in the first place.

“Well,” said his mother, “aren’t you going to open it?”

“I’m scared,” he said. “What if it’s a soccer ball and I don’t know how to kick well enough? What if it’s a football and I can’t throw it high enough? What if it’s a book and I’m not smart enough to understand what it says?”

With a smile, his mother replied, “You’ll never know unless you open it. Gifts are meant to be opened. Gifts are meant to be used. Even if you struggle at first, you’ll learn whatever you need to in the end. Eventually, it will become such a part of your life you’ll forget it was even a gift.”

The boy listened to his mother but waited until she left the room. Then he reached up and took the package from the shelf. It felt more real in his hands. Slowly untying the ribbon and removing the paper, he paused before lifting the lid. Taking a deep breath, he reached down and took hold of the lid with both hands. In the box he saw his gift.

It was freedom.