My husband [Lehi Gracia] and I arrived from Mexico in July 1988, in fulfillment of his call to preside over the Honduras Tegucigalpa Mission in Central America. When we arrived, we felt a special warmth in our hearts, and noticed the strong Spirit that the people of this country have. They are kind, loving and Christian people.

The month of November came, and, as in every month, we had a missionary training session to teach the elders and sisters how to bring more souls to Christ and to cause them to have joy and love for their fellowmen. On that occasion, the missionaries also had the Christmas spirit, and their faces and talks mirrored the anticipation that they were going to receive letters, cards and gifts from their family and friends. Every one of them talked about the same things.After the training, the mission president and I, his wife, ended with a spiritual message full of love to those 230 missionaries. Every one of them was anxious for Christmas to arrive. The families of the missionaries, through cards and gifts, confirm the love they have for them and encourage them to continue firm and faithful to their callings to the very last day.

Taking advantage of their enthusiasm to receive the Spirit helped me to leave a message based on the blessings we get from giving, that we must celebrate Christmas in a correct way. I emphasized the purpose for which the Savior came to this earth, and stressed that we must live to follow His example.

I told the missionaries that the most valuable gifts we could give Him are the souls we bring to His flock. These gifts would be more valuable than the gold, frankincense and myrrh that were taken to the stable so long ago.

The missionaries caught the real spirit of Christmas. They served diligently to bring those special gifts of souls to the Savior. The great majority of families too high.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I have only a few little things for my children - caps and mittens I knitted myself. Yet, I wanted to buy something they could look forward to. We live at a time of prosperity (although it would not enter our modest home), when children desire more than just caps and mittens. They get that anyway. But buying gifts was not the issue. I don't even know what we are going to eat during this Christmas season. I had planned this work I had just delivered to pay for our Christmas. All my debts were paid and I was looking forward to having a Christmas free from care. I feel like crying out loud.

I regain my composure. The children will be back from shopping. They walked to a bakery in another part of town because the bread there is better and cheaper. After all, I have to count every penny. I quickly clean up our apartment. I wonder where I might borrow just a little money in order to be able to put some food on the table.

All of a sudden, I am startled. Wasn't there a knock at the door? As I open the door, I see a woman in front of me. A new customer? No! A humble woman, maybe in her 60s. I have never seen her. I don't know her.

"Come in, if you please. Is there anything I can do for you?" I ask. "`No," she answers. "I just heard that you are an honest, hard-working woman and have two children.

"I do not mean to disturb you," she continues while opening her well-worn purse, taking out something and putting it into my hand. "I have no family," she goes on, "but I can understand your situation very well. My mother, too, had to struggle to put us through after my father was killed in World War I. Please do take it. I would like to do something nice for you."

I stare at the folded-up bill in my hand. Taken aback by this generous gift, I want to return it to her.

"No," the stranger replies. "I don't need much. I really don't need this money." Then she wishes me a Merry Christmas and hastily leaves.

This all happened 20 years ago. I never met her again. Until today, I have never found out who she was. But when, especially at Christmas, I sit musing, I can see this woman, who, when I found myself in a desperate situation, came to me, as if sent by Heavenly Father. I also remember my children's shining eyes, because that year Christmas took the special turn that the little woman gave it. And then I remember again that poem I had recited in my own childhood so many years ago:

"Market place and streets deserted,

Full of luminosity

Smile the windows to the wanderer

Everything's festivity."