I see many organizations and groups helping those who stand in line outside banks to change their old currency into new notes, and am happy to see tea and foodstuff being distributed free.
And then I see photos being taken of their acts of giving, which are circulated to everybody through whatsapp or email! But there are many who give very quietly, and whose names are never known; who give out of love: “Can I see my baby?” the happy new mother asked as she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face, she gasped, the baby had been born without ears. Time proved that the baby’s hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred. He rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother’s arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreaks and blurted out, “A boy, a big boy … called me a freak.”
He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favourite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for his lack of ears. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music. “But you might mingle with other young people,” his mother reproved him, but felt a kindness in her heart.
The boy’s father had a session with the family doctor. Could nothing be done? “I believe I can graft on a pair of outer ears, if they can be procured,” the doctor decided. Then the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man. Two years went by. Then one day they found someone, “But it’s a secret,” said the father.
The operation was a brilliant success, and a new person emerged. His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college became a series of triumphs. Later he married and entered the diplomatic service. “But I must know!” He urged his father, “Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him.” “I do not believe you could, “said the father, “but the agreement was that you are not to know, not yet.” The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come … one of the darkest days that a son must endure. He stood with his father over his mother’s coffin. Slowly, tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to reveal that the mother, had no outer ears.
“Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut,” he whispered gently, “and nobody ever thought Mother less beautiful, did they?” Real beauty lies not in the physical appearance, but in the heart. Real treasure lies not in what can be seen; but that which cannot be seen. Real giving lies not in what is done and known, but in what is done but not known! Real giving is when ‘your right hand does not know what your left hand gives..!’
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