Now there was a man and his wife who had a son they loved greatly; and they had made good use of their presents and were happy. But one day the boy said, “I want to take my presents now and go to college.” The mother was glad, but the father said, “The way to use them is the way I tell you. Then I’ll put mine with yours, and we will use them both together.”
“I cannot, father,” the boy said. “Mine were not meant to be used that way.”
Then the boy left home so that he could use his presents; and his mother died: and his father was angry towards him. The boy used as well as he knew how the presents he received, but he did not know well at first how to use them (though he learned after awhile), and he was very unhappy and his life was almost ruined. And his father continued angry with him, and misused all his presents after that, and was very miserable until he died; for he saw that what his son had done was right, yet he would not forgive when he was asked, and all the gifts he had received only made him feel the sadder.
Again, there was an old man who used his presents to make money. He had always used them so, and he meant always to use them so. He would not use them to help people who did not know how to use their own, no, not even to help a friend. But he could not do that, for nobody would be friends with such a man. He would not even use any part of them to serve his country when it was at war and needed him. And every twelve months he was more miserable, and swore he would give all the money he had made, just for a little happiness; yet every time he used his gifts in the same selfish way.
At last the old, old man sent word to this old man (who was nothing but an hour-old babe beside the other), that he might take back the next gift at any time. The money-lover trembled and shook; but in a little while he had forgotten all about his warning and was misusing the gift as he had done with all he ever had. Then came the old man one dark night, and snatched back the present from the miser. And the old man who had never used his presents well, screamed in his terror and fell back dead.
This stern, kindly old man gave his gifts to nations, too, for the nations were his children just the same as the boys and girls. Now one time, in midsummer, word was brought him that he had a new nation child.
“I declare,” he exclaimed, “I’ve only a piece of a present left for it. That will be enough, though; the child won’t live.”
But that was once the old man was wrong, for the child did live; and it made such good use of its present that he gave it another, and another, and another. And the nation kept growing, for it used his gifts wisely, and helped him to do away with many things that were not good; and at last it used his gifts to save weaker people from hunger, and sword, and what is worse than either.
And if there be such an old man now (I hope there is, don’t you?), I hope he has already taught us how to use his gifts; and if there be such a nation, the child of Father Time, I pray that God has made it wise enough so that the gifts of years will make certain centuries of existence.