She, too, had a tear in her eye as we waved good-bye.

The next day, father took me back to Mrs. Schwartz's home. She said she had a Christmas gift for me. I eagerly unwrapped the gift, not noticing the bare nightstand in front of the window. I took the lid off the old shoebox and pushed aside the shredded wood packing. Inside the box were her treasured ornaments — her life's possessions.

I had a big lump in my throat as I tried to tell her that I couldn't keep them. She just smiled and patted my shoulder. When she saw in my eyes that I had given in to her wishes, she said, "I vant ya to haf my Christmas ornaments. You enjoy dem so much as I do. I vill not be here next Christmas. I vant you to haf dem. Please!"

Mrs. Schwartz died the next month. Her daughter in Chicago sent a check to pay for the funeral expenses. Father spoke at the service, attended by nine old ladies and me.

My blue Schwinn five-speed has been stored in the garage for many years now. But every Christmas, I put up the little tree and watch the sun flicker off the colored glass ornaments, sending sparks of colored light throughout the room.

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About the author. . .

Dr. Rex Nielsen grew up in Salt Lake City, next to where Hires Big H is located on 700 East. Nielsen attended Vanderbilt Medical School in Nashville, Tenn., practiced for two years in West Valley City and has practiced for the past four years in Price.

He and his wife, Jenny, a homemaker, have three children. Nielsen tells this story to his family every Christmas Eve.