The December Gift

It was one of the bigger teddy bears I had ever seen, much bigger than the baby girl for whom the gift was intended. The source of the gift was an even bigger surprise.

Back in 1981, when our daughter Kris was born (37 years ago today – Happy Birthday, Kris!), my wife and I worked for the same TV news station in Miami. She was a videographer; I was a producer. The gift was from another videographer. Enrique was born in Cuba – as were many South Florida residents. He kept largely to himself; sandy blonde hair with temples threatening to turn white, sad eyes, soft-spoken when he spoke at all.

Kris loved her big teddy bear, but giving the gift  meant even
more to Enrique.

Enrique was highly-skilled. His background was unique. The other videographers on staff had worked themselves up from smaller markets. Not Enrique. This was his first job in the US. His previous employer was the government. The Cuban government. Enrique had been Fidel Castro’s official videographer.

In April 1980, when the bad Cuban economy got even worse, some 10,000 Cubans tried to claim asylum by crashing the Peruvian embassy. Castro responded by allowing anyone who wanted to escape to simply leave. Tens of thousands of Cubans stormed the port of Mariel to join the ragtag “Freedom Flotilla” to Key West. It wasn’t long before US officials realized Castro had forced thousands of criminals and political opponents to join the exodus. Eventually, South Florida absorbed most of the 125,000 refugees.

Enrique was one of them. When he heard a knock on the door late one night, he knew exactly what was coming – be at the Mariel docks by morning. Not his wife, not his two teenaged sons, just him. Enrique was being kicked out of his homeland because Castro no longer trusted him. Despite all his attempts to remain impassive, Enrique couldn’t hide “the look.” It’s the look we all have when we just can’t swallow the lies anymore.

“I want to do this,” Enrique said when we protested that the oversized teddy bear was overly generous. “I have to do this.”

Enrique was a man of few words, so it only took him a couple of sentences to give us lessons in deprivation and separation, generosity and redemption.

“When my sons were born,” Enrique recalled, “there was no money and no toys in Cuba. This is the gift my heart couldn’t give to them.”

To us, that stuffed animal became more than just a toy. It became a symbol of how connected we are to each other. It was also an example of Jesus in our lives – receiving the gift of grace not because we deserve it, but because of the love in the giver’s heart.

December is the month for gifts. We look for gift ideas because we have to get something for family and friends. Gifts like that can sometimes be just things. Maybe there are better ideas – giving of yourself, your time. A quiet dinner for a spouse. A night out with friends. A family photo for a parent. Maybe even a load of laundry for an elderly neighbor. It doesn’t have to be as big as a big teddy bear. It just has to be from the love in your heart. That’ll be plenty big enough.