The Gains of Giving

I can still hear his contagious laugh; Shoulders bouncing up and down. Arms crossed in front of him as if he were able to hold it in. His bright light that illuminated all of us. But now, that light had faded into the great beyond. It sucks saying goodbye to a loved one. It sucks seeing the life of one who actually made the world a better place, suddenly gone. But here we are. It is what it is. And there’s nothing we can do to change that.

Papa was classy, all around. Dawning cardigans before they were cool, he always ensured he was looking his best. His study, however… that was a completely different story.

Looking around at his small, semi-lit study, I was overwhelmed at the quality of its contents. Photos and artifacts, certificates and awards. The small, 10x10 room contained a life – a large life at that.

Continuing to wade through Papa’s life, I came across something that would never leave me the same.

Reaching up to the top shelf of his meticulously maintained bookshelf, was an odd, misfit notebook. It stuck out, completely foreign to the other books on that particular shelf. Where dust had gathered around the other books, a spotless runway lay between this particular book and the edge of the shelf.

Grabbing it, the first thing I realized was that this book was worn thoroughly. It needed little effort to open up. This small, black notebook had clearly been opened for the majority of its life. The pages were weathered, worn, and the edges smudged on the sides from frequent reading. The penmanship was unmistakably Papa’s.

Sitting down to investigate this mysterious black book, I scanned the first page; In the middle was written one concise line:

A life that takes is nothing gained. But a life that gives truly lives.

A small smirk crept across my face. The quip was so like Papa. I turned the page…

You will find contained in this cherished notebook of mine, a life contained. If you pursue the wisdom I have sought to share with you, then you will find in the end, a life larger than yours or mine combined. A life fully lived. Along the way, if you take this journey seriously, you will find dispersed sums of your inheritance to help you along the way. It is your choice when you would like to quit; you can take your inheritance and spend it freely. But at any point should you choose to continue, know that every penny of it will be spent in pursuit of this life I now offer you. The first of it can be found at the very back of this journal. Take care, grandson, and know that I have enjoyed every minute of time together. Thank you for the uncontainable laughter that you brought me. I love you dearly. Here’s to the next great adventure – for the both of us.

– Papa

Wiping my tears before they could fall on the precious pages, I turned to the back of the notebook to find taped to the back cover, a penny.

Thinking this was the last joke Papa would share, I looked closer. Examining the coin closer, a familiar feeling overwhelmed me. This was the coin that Papa had shown me decades before.

Sitting on his lap as a toddler, I remembered his glee as he asked me, “How much do you suppose this coin is worth?”

“Papa, it’s a penny,” I answered, “It’s only worth a cent.

“Ah, but look closer.” His smile grew. “You’re absolutely right. This coin is in fact a penny. But it’s a very rare penny. And one day, what was once only worth a cent, as you’ve brilliantly observed, will be worth thousands. You see, patience can be a valuable life skill. Sometimes it earns you friendships, while other times, it just might earn you $5,000!”

I still remember my awe in that moment. Pulling out my phone, I googled the year of the penny. Sure enough, the penny was the 1964 SMS Penny. It’s value: $5,000.

Papa’s exuberant laughter echoed in my mind.

I flipped back to the next page in the journal now-become-journey.

It shouldn’t have taken you long to remember the day I told you about this simple coin. I have cherished the look on your face when I told you the value of the coin! I hope you never lose that wonder of the world. My good friend, Tom, has agreed to buy the coin off of you. Use the funds to go to the spot that our family vacationed in 2007. Here’s your hint: It was the time and place that was most anticipated yet least expected.

– Papa

I knew exactly what he was talking about. In 2007, our family went to Kauai, Hawaii. Papa had talked about doing a hike to a remote set of waterfalls for months before the trip. He had desired for years to see the falls. Over halfway into the hike, we came across a woman in distress. Her 3-year old daughter had been bit by a stray dog. Papa took command of the situation, picked up the woman’s daughter, and carried her back to our vehicle, as we drove to the hospital together. But he didn’t leave after dropping them off – he waited in the waiting room until after the surgery. Sitting next to him the whole time, I felt agitated that his dream would be robbed of him so quickly.

That’s when he leaned over to me, smiling, and said, “Isn’t this incredible – that we would have this opportunity to help these people?”

“But Papa!” I protested, “Your dream–“ I would never finish that sentence.

“What? The falls? Oh grandson… To see those falls would last, what? 30 minutes. But look at what we are doing. Right here. Right now. We’re saving a life! How long do you suppose that will last?” He smiled, love gleaning in his eyes.

Flipping the page to gain some foresight as to what I was heading into, but the clues ended with a missing page that had been torn out. Every page after that was filled with memories.

March 3rd, 1953…

I married my best friend today. When those church doors opened revealing my beautiful bride, I wept as I’ve never wept before. What beauty which has now become the ultimate recipient of my love.

April 24th, 1960…

Our child was born at 8:53am. She looks just like her mother – an answer to my prayers! Holding her now, I question whether I will ever be able to let go…

October 21st, 1983…

Today, was the day longed for and dreaded. As I walked my baby girl down the aisle, and placed her hand in her now-husbands. The two are a perfect pair. But giving her away has been the hardest yet.

I flipped forward and stopped at a date I could never miss: January 12th, 1990 – my birthday.

January 12th, 1990…

What joy contained in such a little package. I forgot just how tiny humans can be. Yet contained now in this little lad, I see the passion of life in all of its vigor. We are already the best of friends, and I know in my heart now that the adventures are just begun.

I slammed the book shut, and balled.

I booked my ticket, and was on a plane the very next day. Landing in Kauai, I rented a car and headed straight to pivotal point along that fateful trail – where our adventure to the falls was interrupted so suddenly. Leaving the door of the car wide open, I darted down the path, tears welling up. Leaves wisped past my face in the tropical paradise. My breath grew heavy. My throat clutched up. But I didn’t care. My mind was fixed on what Papa would say next.

Turning the corner before that fateful spot, I slid to a sudden stop. I scanned the area frantically.

Nothing.

I paused. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, and considered what his next clue could possibly be. And I listened. I listened to the sound of the gentle island breeze. I listened to the crashing of the waterfalls in the distance. And I listened to my memories, boasting Papa’s contagious laughter. In my listening, there was one sound in particular that didn’t belong.

It was the sound of paper, waving in the wind. Turning around I found a note, nailed to a nearby tree. It was the missing page from Papa’s notebook. It read:

My new friend, and my daughter’s hero,

I don’t know how I shall ever repay you and your grandson for your heroic and selfless act of kindness. You saved my daughter’s life today, and I will cherish that for the rest of my life. I don’t think the greatest treasure of the world could repay you for what you’ve done. But please accept the greatest treasure in my possession: my family’s Certificate of Title for the waterfalls you were on your way to – which have been in my family’s possession for hundreds of years. I only ask that you continue to allow hikers from across the world to come and enjoy the magnificent beauty of the falls.

Your new and grateful friends,

Alani + Kiana

P.S., flip the note for your next clue :)

Dazed, I stared blankly at the note. Finally snapping out of it, I flipped the note.

Grandson,

I hope you are as shocked as I was when I read this! Your Nana and I visited Alani and Kiana frequently in the years following our family trip. They are very dear friends, and would be happy to see you again! They live in the house you drove past on your way to the trailhead. It’s the first one on the left.

All my love,

Papa.

I walked back to my car, still dazed.

A short drive down the road and I was at the address. Knocking on the door, I had no clue what to expect. The door opened, and a smile as bright as Papa’s welcomed me in.

“You made it!” Alani embraced me with the hug that can only be described as family. “Come in! Sit! Sit down! We have lots to talk about!”

I was still dazed and confused. Words were evading me.

“Is this the man who saved me?” Kiana’s small voice inquired from the living room.

“Yes, it is!” Alani said, still smiling at me.

“You… You gave…” I took a breath. “You gave the Title of the falls to my grandfather?”

Alani smiled. “I tried! But he wouldn’t accept. Each time your grandparents would come and visit, I tried as hard as I could to convince him! But each time he would reply with: ‘A life that takes is nothing gained. But a life that gives truly lives.’ That was your grandfather!”

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out an envelope. Sliding it across the table in front of me, she smiled. “He left this for you.”

Opening up the envelope, I found one more familiar page belonging to the journal, and three more 1964 SMS Pennies.

Grandson,

I now leave you with the rest of your inheritance. It’s not much, I know, but then, that’s the return of a life given: Monetarily poor, yet abundantly alive. Never once have I regretted anything given away.

I have so enjoyed our adventures, and I will miss them dearly. The task is now yours what kind of life you will lead; One that takes everything it can get, or, a rare one: One rarer than these coins; that gives every chance you get.

At times, it will be something small like giving someone a penny. And at other times, it will be something remarkable, like giving a loving mother her daughter.

Remember, grandson, a life that takes is nothing gained. But a life that gives, truly lives.

With all my love,

– Papa.