Sobs, Sniffles, and Smiles

Each Christmas, I select and give a book to each of my children.  It's my little way of emphasizing the importance of reading.  I always tell them that the love of words and books has shaped my life in powerful ways.  When I'm gone, I hope that is one of the memories they will have of me.  This year, I gave one of my daughters an illustrated copy of The Gift of the Magi, by O. Henry (a much loved story).  Some of the words are above the average reading level for children (or even adults of this day and age -- e.g., "the silent imputation of parsimony"), but my girls enjoy the story and illustrations very much.

Here's a line from the story that has stuck in my mind:  "[L]ife is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating."  I wonder, is that true?  I suppose O'Henry means that our circumstances usually aren't on either end of the spectrum (either all sobs or all smiles), but rather somewhere in the middle (sniffles).  I'd prefer to think that sniffles are not the middle ground status quo, but some stretches of life do feel that way.  

A couple of days after Christmas, my oldest daughter asked me to take her to get her hair cut.  I thought, "well, good," because I have been suggesting it for months and months.  Turns out, she was inspired by Della in the story, who had her long lovely locks sheared off in exchange for $20, which she used to buy a gift for her dear husband, Jim (and you know the rest of the story).  I thought the moral of the story my girls would take away was that gifts of love and pure sacrifice are the wisest of all.  But it turns out that my daughter was just hoping she could get some payment in return for the hair cut off her own head . . .