The Greatest Graduation Gift

 

Give, and it shall be given unto you;

good measure, pressed down, and shaken together,

and running over, shall men give into your bosom.

For with the same measure that ye mete

withal it shall be measured to you again.

                                                                        -- Luke 6:38

 

It's graduation season again. You go to the parties, and con"grad"ulate the graduate for surviving chemistry class and Cafeteria Mystery Meat. You give an extra-knowing hug to the parents, a hug that means "you done good," and that life will never be the same again. You cast around for just the right little gift for the grads, and maybe throw in an Andrew Jackson or an even niftier President, to go with your best wishes for a bright future.

 

Today I'm remembering the greatest graduation gift I ever saw. At this time of year, I wish that every young person could have the significant blessing that came with it.

 

She was a young beauty, a brain, too, an officer in the honor society who was going out of state to a good university. All her friends and family had gathered for a party. There were adorable kindergarten photos on a posterboard, and nibbles and music and laughter and cake.

 

She got picture frames and monogrammed towels and stuff for her dorm room. Some of the relatives gave her fat checks. Her folks gave her a microwave. There were umpteen cards and autographs, promises to stay in touch, and much, much laughter.

 

As the gifts were opened, the girl's oldest aunt, a nun, sat with the rest of us, oohing and ahhing. A retired teacher, you could tell that her favorite thing in the world was encouraging young people. Then it came time for the honoree to open the gift from her.

 

It was a scrapbook. I remember thinking, now THAT'S a good idea. Our young graduate can put lots of pictures from her high school days to share with her new friends at college. She can look at it from time to time when she feels a little homesick.

 

But the grad was thumbing through the scrapbook, gasping and laughing. It was already filled up. But not with photos - with cards and letters in a little girl's handwriting.

 

Hunh? What? I couldn't understand.

 

But I saw the light shining in the graduate's eyes, and she jumped up and ran over to her aunt, giving her the biggest, warmest hug of the day. I saw the graduate's mother go misty-eyed and put her hand over her mouth in gratitude and emotion.

 

When I looked through that scrapbook, I saw why:

 

The nun had saved every little note, card and memento from that young girl throughout the years. The first ones were in large, misshapen letters, on stationery with duckies and teddy bears. Then the handwriting got more even, and the papers more sophisticated. It was a written record of that girl's childhood through her senior year. It was also a written record of her good manners and her regard and respect for her elderly relative.

 

Every birthday card she'd sent her aunt . . . every thank-you note . . . every funny little crayon drawing . . . every postcard . . . every letter from camp . . . every message about babysitting or books or things they had in common. The auntie had saved them all, and now, at graduation, she was giving them all back. They both were greatly blessed.

 

It was a thick scrapbook, and it bore a precious record of a loving and sweet relationship that was now graduating to one between equals. Through the years, the nun had savored the thoughtful contacts from her niece, and hung on to the tangible evidence that her positive influence on the girl, her loving attention, her "being there," was making a difference.

 

And now, the graduate was living proof that, yes, indeed, this was a young woman who had been loved and disciplined and taught manners and reared right. Something tells me she'll be that kind of aunt, too. Nothing could honor her own aunt any more.

 

As we celebrate our graduates, let's celebrate aunts like that, too. And uncles, and grandparents, and teachers, and family friends. All the people who helped "bring them along" share the joy of these days. Theirs is the greater gift: helping to grow a person.

 

If you've made a difference in the life of a child, there's a record of it in the most important Scrapbook of all. And when you "graduate," once and for all, and "commence" heavenly life, you'll finally get to see your influence on others here on Earth, clearly and completely. May we all be Phi Beta Kappas . . . of love. †