The Gift
A Hearthwarming Tale
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“I want to have it!” snapped the yellow filly!
“No! I get it!” retorted her orange twin sister!
The opened package was reduced to a rubble of torn wrapping paper and scattered ribbon! The orange filly was clutching a warm winter cloak of red cloth with soft fuzzy lining and a hood.
In exasperation, their mother, Hareit, a blue mare, said, “My fillies! I expected better of you! This is Hearthwarming! A time of sharing and kindness. The package was for Kay! It is hers!”
The orange filly nodded triumphantly and then surprised her mother entirely. Looking troubled and ashamed, Kay carefully folded the cloak. “Mol, I know why you wanted my cloak. Mom just said why Hearthwarming is important. We both have good cloaks.
“What you wanted is right. Will you let me share the giving?”
Hareit, brow furrowed with concentration, asked, “What do you mean, Kay? What does Mol want with your new cloak?”
Kay pointed to a frost covered window and replied softly, “She wants my cloak to give to her.”
“Who, Kay?”
It was Mol who answered, “That filly out there. She is begging on Hearthwarming and all that she has is a bit of rag around her head. It is not enough.”
Their mother nodded, suddenly proud of her fillies. “You are right. That is not enough. We have plenty of food for our feast. There is a warm fire in our hearth.
“Go together, my dears, and give her the cloak. Invite her in to our Hearthwarming. If she is begging to feed others, bring them in too.”
The two fillies donned their older cloaks and dashed out, leaving the door ajar in their haste to do a good deed.
Soon they reentered, leading the beggar, now dressed well in the bright new cloak. In spite of the cloak, the pink filly was shivering, chilled to the bone.
Kay and Mol sat her by the fire and brought her a warm spiced cider and some sweet alfalfa cookies. As she drank and nibbled, she said softly, “What do you want from me for this kindness?”
Mol stopped in surprise. “Nothing but that you be warm and well fed. You must spend the night here, in the warmth of our home and share our feast. It is nearly ready.”
Kay added, “We have plenty and you only want. You do have a gift for us. Do you know what it is?”
The waif shook her head. “No, I do not understand.”
Kay smiled and hugged the beggar foal. “It is yourself. We have been wanting a sister and here you are.”
The beggar filly lifted a troubled stare to the fillies. “Are you sure? What if I was a deer in disguise, seeking out some pony to grant a wish to?”
The fillies giggled and it was Kay who replied, “We are not silly enough to believe in deer! Oh, my! Still, it is a sister that we want! If you are one, can we still have our new sister?”
Hareit was watching the by play indulgently. “Dinner time, youngsters! That means you too, red cloak! You forgot to tell us your name!”
The pink filly, now warm, nodded. “I did, didn’t I? Call me Red.”
They all sat to the table and had a merry time indeed. Red relaxed. She, Mol and Kay played together as if they had indeed grown up together.
When it was finally time to sleep, the twins tucked Red into blankets in front of the warm fireplace.
In the morning, Red was gone. The cloak was neatly folded on top of the folded blankets. Her begging bowl sat on top of the cloak. It was overflowing with golden bits.
There was a note weighted down by the bowl.
“For your unselfishness and kind treatment, I have granted your wish. Go to the town square and give this cloak to the first filly that you see begging there. She will be your new sister.
“As for not believing in deer, you had one among you, in disguise, last night.
“RED DEER wishes you well and thanks you for your goodness.”