A Sweet Story Just in Time for Christmas

As I sat in my hotel room, a clear view of the Sun Valley Resort and Village below me, my husband snowboarding at River Run providing me a with much-needed writer's retreat, I fully intended to write a sappy, sentimental treatise on the reality of Santa Claus, not unlike "Yes, Mrs. Duggan, There is a Santa Claus" which I wrote about two years ago.

But then I got hungry and ventured into the village in search of lunch. Anyone who knows me knows that it is virtually impossible for me to be inspirational on an empty stomach.

On my way to pick up a sandwich, I took a detour into a nearby gift shop to look at earrings and ornaments. While perusing the jewelry selection, I overheard a young girl, probably around ten or eleven, ask the clerk what she could buy for four dollars. Apparently, her father had given her some money to spend at the Chocolate Foundry, and she had decided to spend the money on a Christmas gift for her father instead.

Before I continue, let me outline my past experiences with child tourists in Sun Valley. Most of the people who vacation at this resort are very wealthy and feel quite entitled to allow their children to run wild without consequence. During my stays in Sun Valley, I have had children slam into me without so much as an apology. I have heard children whining and crying over the most superficial, overpriced products known to the consumer market. One year, I sat in the Warm Springs Lodge, writing while Dan snowboarded, only to have objects thrown at me by a couple of self-absorbed teenagers.

"Did you just throw something?" a worker confronted the two girls as something whizzed past my ear.

One of the girls snorted while the other clenched her jaw defiantly, "No," they answered in unison.

I rolled my eyes and nodded at the worker who shrugged helplessly and left the two adolescents to continue their annoying game.

So, to hear this girl politely ask for help in finding a four-dollar gift for her father, money that her father thought she was spending on herself, piqued my curiosity. She settled on a small item and dug into her pocket, coming up with three dollars instead of four.

"I guess he only gave me three dollars. It's too much," the little girl said as she picked up her money and started to turn from the clerk.

I was about ready to cover the cost myself when I heard the clerk say, "Wait, I think there is a discount," she punched some numbers into her cash register. " Ah, yes. It's actually only $2.88."

The little girl paid for the gift and left the store with an innocent, "Thank you."

"That was really nice of you," I said to the clerk.

"Sometimes, you just have to give back, you know?"

"Well, it's nice to see that in action."

I left the gift shop, a gift shop situated in the middle of one of the most affluent resort towns in the Northwest, my faith in humanity partially restored this Christmas season by a young tourist and a store cashier.

I didn't even care that, as I made my way back to my hotel room, I had to step on two little rich kids who had draped themselves over the inn stairs while waiting for their parents. In fact, as I smiled at them and chuckled a little to myself, one of them actually mumbled, "Sorry."

Okay, I'll take that for now. Just don't throw anything at me, rich kids.

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan

Check out more of my work in:

It would make a terrific Christmas gift!