The text message came in around dusk, just as Maria and I were pulling up to the inn where we would spend Christmas Eve together. It was from a friend I knew and admired.

It startled me; it was a message of need and fear. And I see now that it frightened me.

The message said that in the past week he had paid the rent, and he and his wife had spent almost all of their money to make sure this Christmas was special for their son, who had suffered greatly in 2019.

“When all was said and done, we were down to $100. This is not enough to get to our next check, but we would have made it work. But when my wife went out, she lost her wallet and every dollar we had. Is there any way for you to help us?”

He said he was so sorry to have to ask, but he had nowhere else to turn. “I can surely pay you back anything you are able to offer.”

My heart sank a bit.

My Christmas present to Maria was a night at this beautiful inn where we spent our honeymoon a decade ago.

It was a special place for us, and the only reason I could afford it this year was that the inn was empty on Christmas eve and the rates had come down to our level.

We have become adept scavengers of cheap hotel rates.

I wasn’t expecting any trouble and was preparing to insulate us from bad news. There it was, right on my phone before we even got there.

The message alarmed me, and I had my own echoes of panic. Money has been a big issue for me in past years; I gave almost all of the money I earned in a lifetime away a decade ago, in a burst of delusion and lost perspective and mental illness.

I am very cautious about money, spending it, receiving it, accounting for it. I am careful now and managing it well. I’ll never be rich, but I’ll be fine. That means a lot to me.

I’ve been writing about Christmas, and it’s meaning this year, as I do most years, but this Christmas Eve, I was getting a reality check about what Christmas means to me, or ought to mean.

It’s easy to spout messages about empathy and mercy; it’s quite another thing to practice either, as Mr. Scrooge came to learn.

Of course, I got momentarily suspicious; I am targetted by scammers constantly. But then I remembered who this was, a person I admired both for his compassion and his honesty. We support the good deeds of one another.

I knew him to be independent and self-sufficient. We are connected to one another.

He did not ever ask for help and would rarely take it. He seemed panicked,  a feeling I know only too well.

I was uncertain.

Boundaries are essential to me. I don’t have much cash of my own, and very little in reserve. Every penny but a few dollars of the money I raise for the Mansion and Bishop Maginn has gone where it was supposed to go, to help the elderly and the young.

I don’t keep it lying around. I don’t ever give personal loans, even if I had the money.

It’s both a boundary issue and a friendship saver. And it’s a bad precedent for me; people sometimes seek me out looking for money, because I sometimes raise money.

I always say the money I raise is for the causes I support only. No exceptions.

And I mean it.

So I said no. They were all valid reasons. I retreated to a place of safety behind the necessary rules.

I told my friend I couldn’t help him. I offered to call him when I got back to see if there was any way I could be of use apart from sending money. I told Maria I was proud of myself, making tough decisions but the right decisions.

My friend said immediately that he understood and I could tell he was both embarrassed and sorry that he raised the issue, he said we should drop it, he’d figure something out.

But inside my head and heart, it wasn’t resolved. I was troubled by my decision.

I couldn’t sleep that night in our beautiful inn; I kept thinking of him and his family, this very good and loving man, facing Christmas with no money to even feed his family.

He had faced awful troubles in recent years with grace and courage.

It didn’t sit right with me to leave him stranded like that. I felt it was my fear speaking, not my heart.

But I wasn’t sure how to help him. I’m not in a position to write checks to people myself, no matter how great their need. Those days are gone.

At 3 a.m. I was up walking through our spacious room, going over and over these messages. My head was spinning.

What was Christmas all about? If not helping someone in that kind of need.

We can’t help everyone or even a lot of people, but there was a message in this for me on Christmas eve. This wasn’t an accident. I went back and forth all night; I couldn’t get comfortable with myself.

It hit me around 4 a.m. I knew what I needed to do.  If I didn’t have the money, then I ought to find it. That felt right to me. My confusion melted away. I couldn’t walk away.

At dawn, I sent an e-mail message to a generous donor who has always been there when a refugee child or family was in great need. I rarely ask her for her help, except in extreme cases, but she has never said no.

She was a real empath, a refugee herself, and a doer of good. She has done much good.

I said I thought a few hundred dollars would help. We weren’t taking over his life, just helping me over a bump. The rest was on him. I would contribute some money of my own.

Then Maria and I started back for home, and the story moved onto messages back and forth on cellphones. It was Christmas, and what on earth did Christmas mean if I didn’t try to help?  It was the right decision, Maria said.

I messaged the angel my friend’s story (not easy texting on a bumpy road, Maria was driving), and I said she should feel free to say no without guilt, but I asked if she could help. In two minutes, a message came back: how much did I need? I wanted to cry; I think I did a bit.

I wrote my friend back, but he was adamant. We just switched positions. He was sorry to have contacted me; he would work it out; he didn’t want any money from me.

He sent me a Christmas tree emoticon. He wished me a Merry Christmas. He wouldn’t accept any money; he was embarrassed to have asked. He had just panicked.

We went back and forth, but he seemed fixed about it — two proud men butting heads now. But so was I set, and many people can out-think me, but very few are more stubborn or determined.

This beautiful angel sent me $500 via Paypal for him, no questions asked. I messaged him and said I was sending the money to him; he could take it or leave it. Neither she nor I wanted him to have to pay it back.

I reasoned need would overcome pride when it came to the needs of  family.

There was a long silence, and he said he would accept it, but he said he knew I would never let him pay me back. He’d take it only if he could do work for me or my causes in return. I said it was a deal, and I will take him up on it.

He can deliver, he knows how to help young people.

A deal for the Gods.

The drive home took more than an hour, driving over mountains and hills as we underwent the classic American modern techno-drama, trying to navigate banks, Paypal, Id’s, passwords, cell numbers, and e-mail addresses via a cellphone.

Everything that could go wrong went wrong. Nothing is really simple, especially not on Christmas Day.

I kept at it, we kept pulling over when there were enough bars, and with Maria’s help, figured it out. We transferred the money from Paypal to his bank account after a lot of bumps and challenges.

That techno-drama only lasted 40 minutes, thanks to my hardy and powerful iPhone 11, which earned its way on that trip and hung in there with me, and the satellites above.

Finally, my friend messaged me that he had received the money, all $500 and he was going to wake up his family and have a joyous and very happy Christmas.

I admit that I felt I had been drawn into a Dickens Christmas story; it felt like that. I had gotten a lesson in the true meaning of Christmas and my willingness to accept it. The timing of this story fascinated me.

I am with Freud. There are no jokes, no accidents. Someone or something was sending me a message.

We all get into trouble in our lives; it is part of being human. We all need help sometimes. It was brave of him to message me. I told him I have been where he was, sending that panicked message.

Fending off cynicism, suspicion, and indifference is the key to humanity sometimes.

Our world is a lot more complicated than Scrooges was, and there are many more reasons to be careful. But no reason to be indifferent.

Thank you for asking me to help, I told this man; you have given me a wonderful gift, a chance to learn the true meaning of Christmas and practice it.

Perhaps this was the reason why all of this happened on our long-planned Christmas Eve getaway.

Now, this very good person has enough money to have a beautiful Christmas, give his son a much deserved happy Christmas day,  buy some food, and get to the next check.  (That is how so many people live.)  And sleep tonight.

My heart told me that I had gotten perhaps the best gift of all, the chance to give with real meaning. Stories like that happen for a reason.