Many years ago, back when I was attending catechism class on Saturdays, there was a particular donation drive for children in need. Regularly, people would bring in some canned food, or a toy or two, but that year, my family and I felt a bit more generous. The Christmas Toy Drive was our opportunity to not only clean up after our pack-rat instincts, but be Good Samaritans and donate basically all of our old toys. We dug through cabinets and closets, full of things left untouched for years, and began piling them into Hefty garbage bags that we rather saw as the Christmas sack full of gifts that Santa Claus carries around. That Saturday before Christmas, I stepped into catechism class with a Santa hat on, dragging along 2 huge bags that were as big as I was at the time, completely full of old action figures, Hot Wheels cars, old board games, and even some new toys we bought from Toys R Us, to include some new things instead of a whole bunch of hand-me-downs. I felt good, not only because of the impressed comments and expressions of my fellow friends and catechism teacher, but because at that point, I knew I was doing something good. Something that would eventually mean the world to someone else who deserves it more than I did. That day, the Christmas spirit in me was at its peak of a lifetime, and I indeed felt like a true Good Samaritan.
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