Here's a story that my mother used to tell my sister and I at Christmas time. If you'd like to read it in Irish, click here. I hope you enjoy it.

The Box of Gold

There was a man in a big city and he had a very important job. He was rich and greatly respected. Christmas Day was coming soon, but the man was too busy to notice. Bright lights were put up all through the city and carols were sung in the streets and in the shops. In the shop windows were toys and new clothes and a lot of other things, but they didn't affect him in the least.

This man had one child - a little boy about six years old. The boy was very excited about the holidays. He loved to help his mother put decorations up in the house and to wrap presents.

His father came home on Christmas Eve tired and cross from the great amount of work he had done. He noticed that his son was fussing with one of the presents under the Christmas tree, a little box wrapped in golden paper. At the top of his voice, he told his son not to mess with that present. The boy stopped and a bright tear fell from his eye as he looked sorrowfully at his father.

The next morning, Christmas Day, the family opened the presents. Finally, there was only one present left under the Christmas tree. The boy picked it up and gave it to his father. It was the little golden box.

The man looked at the bright box. "What's this, love?," he asked his son.

A box full of kisses and hugs for you, Daddy," said his son, putting his hand in his father's hand.

From that day to this, a little golden box sits on the man's desk, reminding him of the most important thing in the world.

Love.