Timmy's Sacrifice

Here is a touching tale showing how the young can teach us so much.

One evening every year the local Mayor was wont to meet
The children of the City at their annual Christmas treat;
And so that none should hunger at this season of goodwill,
The board was spread with Yuletide fare that all might eat their fill.

A mighty Christmas tree was placed at one end of the hall,
Its glittering branches laden down with lovely gifts for all,
But with so many guests to satisfy, His Worship smiled,
There can but be one gift – and only one – for every child.

So one by one each childish heart was filled with happy joy,
And sounds of Ooh!, and Ah!, were heard as each received a toy.
One little chap called Tim seemed dazed at this display;
‘Twas plain to see that presents very rarely came his way.

His clothes, though tidy, bore the mark of many a patched up tear,
Sign of a loving widow’s never failing care.
“Tis now his turn to take a gift – Oh, what a glad surprise!
A box of soldiers! Timmy’s joy was written in his eyes.

He stretched his hands out eagerly – and then, we saw him pause;
One wistful look, and then he spoke – and oh the loud guffaws
That echoed round the room as, shyly, timidly, he said,
“Please Sir I’d like a dolly for a little girl instead”.

The jeering sniggers of the rest made Timmy blush with shame;
“He wants a dolly!” someone sneered, another, “What’s her name?”
The kindly Mayor said, “Oh but why a doll, my little son?”
“The soldiers for a lad like you are surely much more fun?”

“It’s for my little sister Sir, she’s ill, and – oh I know
She’s longing for a little doll because she told me so.
You said one present for each child, and so I’d raver Sir,
Give back the so’jers and I’ll take a doll, instead - for her.”

As Timmy finished speaking, not a single sound was heard,
Glances were averted and many eyes were blurred.
Sarcastic sneers and sniggers faded in a trice,
For Timmy’s story told of great self-sacrifice.

And when the children, homeward bound, went filing through the door,
A lovely doll, and soldiers too, young Timmy proudly bore.


By William H. Dawes