He had plenty of chances. He could have been nicer to his sister or shoveled old Mrs. Peterson’s driveway. He simply didn’t make the effort.
So Henry lay in his bed on Christmas Eve, crying because he knew there would be nothing under the tree for him in the morning, that he was undeserving.
He awoke to the laughter of his sister in the family room. As he stepped through the doorway, she cried, “Henry! Look at all the gifts for you!”