The Gift of the Magi

The Gift of the Magi is a short story. O. Henry wrote it in 1905. It is a famous Christmas story in America. It is about love, giving, and true gifts.

The story happens in New York. A young woman named Della lives in a small, old room with her husband. It is the day before Christmas. Della has only one dollar and eighty-seven cents. Her husband, Jim, gets only twenty dollars a week. They pay for the room and other things. Then there is almost no money left.

But Della loves Jim very much. She wants to buy him a nice present for Christmas. The two of them have only two special things. One is Jim's gold watch. It was his grandfather's watch. The other is Della's long, beautiful hair. They are very proud of these two things.

Della has no money for a present. So she does something big. She runs to a shop and sells her hair for twenty dollars. With the money, she buys a chain for Jim's watch. It is a perfect present for him.

That night, Jim comes home. He sees Della without her long hair. His face does not move. He looks at her in a strange way, and Della does not understand his face. What is he going to say? This small Christmas night will become one of the most famous moments in American stories.

The story starts with a number: one dollar and eighty-seven cents.

That is all of Della's money. She counts it three times. Each time, she cries. She saved it one cent at a time. She talked for a long time with the food sellers to pay a little less, and she felt bad about it. And tomorrow is Christmas.

Della and Jim live in a small room. It costs eight dollars a week. Jim got thirty dollars a week before, but now he gets only twenty. They never have much money. But today, Della feels very poor for the first time. For many months, she saved money for Jim's Christmas present. She wants a very good present for him.

But she cannot buy a good present with one dollar and eighty-seven cents. Della falls onto the old sofa and cries. She thinks, "Life is full of crying and a little smiling. And there is always more crying."

Then she stops crying. She stands up. She looks at herself in the long mirror between the windows. Her eyes are red, but she is calm now. She has an idea. It is a brave idea, and a beautiful one. Della has one thing of real value. And she knows what to do with it.

In this small home, there are two very special things. One is Jim's gold watch. It was his father's watch, and before that, it was his grandfather's. The other is Della's hair. It is long and beautiful. When she lets it down, it goes below her knees. It looks like a brown waterfall.

Now Della decides to sell her hair.

She puts on her old brown coat and her old brown hat. She runs down the stairs and out into the cold street. It is December. She finds a shop. The sign says, "Hair Goods of All Kinds." The woman in the shop is big and cold. She sees everything.

"Can you buy my hair?" Della asks.

"Twenty dollars," the woman says. She lifts the heavy hair with her hand. She cuts it quickly, and the hair falls. It all ends in a few minutes. Della leaves the shop with twenty dollars. Now her hair is very short. Then she goes to many stores. At last, she finds the perfect present. It is a simple, beautiful chain for Jim's watch. It costs twenty-one dollars. Now she has only eighty-seven cents.

She runs home with the chain. She is happy, but she is a little afraid, too. What will Jim say about her hair?

It is seven o'clock, and the coffee is ready. Della sits at the end of the table, near the door. Jim always comes in through this door. She has the chain in her hand. Her hair is now very short, with small curls. She looks like a schoolboy. She says a quiet prayer: "Please, God, let him think I am still pretty."

Then the door opens. Jim comes in. Then he stops.

He looks only at Della. His face is strange, and Della cannot understand it. He is not angry. He is not surprised. He does not look unhappy or afraid. He just looks at her. Della runs to him and talks very fast. "I sold my hair. I wanted to buy you a Christmas present. My hair will grow again. Please don't be angry. Please say 'Merry Christmas.'" Slowly, Jim comes back to himself. He takes a small package out of his coat. He throws it on the table.

"Dell, don't worry," he says quietly. "Your short hair does not change my love for you. But open the package. Then you will understand my face."

Della opens the package. Inside is Jim's present for her. It is a set of beautiful combs for her hair. They have jewels on them. Della saw these combs in a shop window long ago. She loved them very much. But she never thought, "I can have them."

She holds the combs close to her heart. She is crying, but she smiles at Jim. "My hair grows very fast, Jim!" Then she remembers her present for him. "And look! This is for you!" She opens her hand and shows him the chain. "Please give me your watch. I want to see the chain on it."

But Jim does not give her the watch. He sits down on the sofa. He puts his hands behind his head and smiles. "Dell," he says, "let's put our presents away for now. They are too nice to use today. I sold my watch. I used the money to buy your combs. Now, let's have dinner."

So each of them gives the other the best present in the house. But now they cannot use the presents! Still, O. Henry says these two are the wisest of all people who give presents. They are the magi, the wise men.

The Gift of the Magi is a short story written by O. Henry in 1905. It is one of the most popular Christmas stories in American literature, and it gently explores love, sacrifice, and the real meaning of a gift.

The story is set in a small, shabby apartment in New York City on the day before Christmas. A young woman named Della has only one dollar and eighty-seven cents in the world. Her husband, Jim, earns just twenty dollars a week, and after paying the rent and the bills, they have almost nothing left.

Even so, Della loves Jim deeply and wants to buy him something beautiful for Christmas. In fact, the young couple own only two things that they truly treasure. One is Jim's gold pocket watch, which was handed down from his grandfather. The other is Della's long, beautiful hair. Both the watch and the hair are a great source of pride for them.

Unable to find another way to pay for a present, Della takes a desperate step. She hurries to a hair shop and sells her hair for twenty dollars. With that money, she buys Jim a platinum chain for his beloved watch, the perfect gift to go with the thing he values most.

That evening, Jim comes home and finds Della without her hair. His face freezes in an odd expression that she cannot understand. What he is about to reveal will turn this quiet Christmas Eve into one of the most powerful moments in American fiction.

The story begins with a number: one dollar and eighty-seven cents.

That is all the money Della has. She has counted it three times, and each time she has cried. She saved those pennies one by one at the grocer's, the vegetable stand, and the butcher's, feeling ashamed as she argued for hours over just a few cents. And tomorrow is Christmas Day.

Della and Jim live in a small apartment that costs eight dollars a week. Jim used to earn thirty dollars a week, but now he earns only twenty. Although money has always been tight, Della has never felt as poor as she does today. For months, she has been saving to buy Jim a Christmas present, something fine and rare enough to be worthy of him.

However, one dollar and eighty-seven cents will not buy anything fine. Della throws herself onto the worn little couch and cries. Life, she thinks, is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, and the sniffles always seem to win.

Then she stops crying and stands up. She looks at herself in the narrow mirror between the windows. Her eyes are red, but her face is calm. A desperate yet beautiful idea has come to her. There is still one thing she owns that has real value, and she knows exactly what she is going to do with it.

In this small home, there are two possessions that the young couple truly treasure. One is Jim's gold pocket watch, which once belonged to his father and, before that, to his grandfather. The other is Della's long, beautiful hair. When she lets it down, it reaches below her knees, shining like a brown waterfall.

Della has made up her mind to sell her hair.

She puts on her old brown jacket and old brown hat, hurries down the stairs, and steps out into the cold December street. Soon she finds a shop with a sign that says, "Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." The owner is a large, pale, unfriendly woman whose sharp eyes notice everything.

"Will you buy my hair?" Della asks.

"Twenty dollars," the woman replies, lifting the heavy mass of hair with an experienced hand. The scissors flash, and the hair falls to the floor. The whole deal is over in just a few moments. Della leaves the shop with twenty dollars in her hand and only short curls on her head. After that, she searches one store after another until she finally finds the perfect gift: a simple, elegant platinum chain that suits Jim's beloved watch. It costs twenty-one dollars, which leaves her with eighty-seven cents.

She rushes home with the chain, full of hope but also a little afraid of what Jim will say when he sees her hair.

At seven o'clock, the coffee is ready. Della sits at the corner of the table, near the door that Jim always comes through. She is holding the platinum chain. She has done her best with her hair, which is now a mass of small, tight curls that make her look like a schoolboy. She whispers a little prayer: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opens. Jim walks in and suddenly stops.

His eyes are fixed on Della, and his face shows an expression that she cannot understand. It is not anger, surprise, disapproval, or horror. He simply stares at her. Della runs to him, and the words pour out of her: she sold her hair to buy him a Christmas present, it will grow back, she begs him not to be angry, and she asks him to say "Merry Christmas." Little by little, Jim recovers himself. He takes a small package out of his coat and tosses it onto the table.

"Don't get me wrong, Dell," he says quietly. "No haircut could ever make me love you less. But if you open that package, you'll see why I was so shocked at first."

Inside the package is Jim's gift to her: a set of beautiful tortoise-shell combs with jewels around the edges. Della had once seen them in a shop window and longed for them, never imagining she would actually own them.

She holds the combs to her chest, and through her tears she smiles up at him. "My hair grows so fast, Jim!" Then she remembers her own present. "And look, I bought you this!" She holds out the platinum chain in her open hand. "Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of handing her the watch, Jim sits down on the couch, puts his hands behind his head, and smiles. "Dell," he says, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep them for a while. They're too nice to use right now. I sold the watch to get the money for your combs. And now, why don't you start cooking the chops?"

In the end, they have given each other the two finest gifts in the house, and in doing so they have made each other's gifts useless. And yet, O. Henry says, of all the people who give and receive gifts, these two are the wisest. They are the true magi.

The Gift of the Magi, which O. Henry published in 1905, endures as one of the most treasured Christmas tales in American letters, a tender meditation on love, self-sacrifice, and the true nature of giving.

The narrative unfolds in a cramped, threadbare flat in New York City on Christmas Eve. Della, a young wife, possesses a grand total of one dollar and eighty-seven cents. Her husband, Jim, brings home a meagre twenty dollars a week, and once the rent and sundry bills have been settled, scarcely anything remains.

Della's devotion to Jim is profound, however, and she longs to present him with something exquisite for Christmas. The impecunious couple prize only two possessions above all else: Jim's gold pocket watch, an heirloom handed down from his grandfather, and Della's long, lustrous hair. Watch and hair alike are the twin pillars of their modest pride.

Finding no other means of procuring a gift, Della resorts to a drastic measure. She hastens to a hair shop and parts with her tresses for twenty dollars, which she promptly spends on a platinum fob chain for Jim's cherished watch, an offering perfectly befitting his most prized possession.

That evening, Jim returns home to discover his wife shorn of her hair. His features congeal into an inscrutable expression that she cannot decipher. What he is on the verge of disclosing will transform this unassuming Christmas Eve into one of the most quietly devastating moments in American fiction.

The story opens with a figure: one dollar and eighty-seven cents.

That sum constitutes the entirety of Della's fortune. She has tallied it three times, and on each occasion she has dissolved into tears. Every penny has been scrimped one at a time from the grocer, the greengrocer, and the butcher, wrung out through hours of mortifying haggling over trifling amounts. And Christmas Day is tomorrow.

The couple occupy a modest flat let at eight dollars a week. Jim's wages, once a respectable thirty dollars, have dwindled to a mere twenty. Though their finances have perpetually been precarious, never until this moment has Della felt the full sting of poverty. For months she has been hoarding her coins to buy Jim a present, something sufficiently fine and rare to merit the honour of belonging to him.

Yet one dollar and eighty-seven cents can procure nothing of distinction. Della flings herself upon the shabby little couch and weeps, reflecting that life is composed of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

Presently, her tears subside. She rises and regards herself in the cheap pier glass between the windows. Her eyes are reddened, yet her countenance is composed. An idea has seized her, at once desperate and sublime. She still possesses one thing of genuine worth, and she knows precisely what she must do with it.

Within this humble household, two possessions are held in especial reverence. The first is Jim's gold pocket watch, an heirloom that passed from his grandfather to his father and thence to him. The second is Della's hair, so long and lustrous that, when unbound, it cascades past her knees like a rippling brown waterfall illuminated from within.

Della has resolved to sacrifice her hair.

Donning her threadbare brown jacket and her old brown hat, she darts down the staircase and out into the biting December air. Before long she happens upon an establishment whose sign proclaims, "Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." Its proprietress is a portly, pallid, and frosty woman with an eye that misses not the slightest detail.

"Would you be willing to buy my hair?" Della inquires.

"Twenty dollars," comes the reply, as the woman hefts the weighty tresses with a practised hand. The shears glint, the hair tumbles, and the entire transaction is concluded in a matter of moments. Della emerges clutching twenty dollars, her head now adorned with nothing but cropped curls. She then scours shop after shop until she unearths the ideal present: a platinum fob chain, unostentatious and chaste in design, eminently suited to Jim's treasured watch. Its price of twenty-one dollars leaves her with a paltry eighty-seven cents.

She hurries home bearing the chain, buoyed by hope yet harbouring a faint dread of Jim's reaction to her altered appearance.

By seven o'clock, the coffee has been brewed. Della perches at the corner of the table nearest the door through which Jim invariably enters, the platinum chain clasped in her hand. She has salvaged what she could of her hair, coaxing it into tiny, close-cropped curls that lend her the air of a schoolboy. In a hushed voice she beseeches heaven: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door swings open, and Jim crosses the threshold, only to halt abruptly.

His gaze is riveted on Della, his face frozen in an expression she is utterly unable to decipher, one that betrays neither anger nor astonishment, neither disapproval nor horror; he merely stares. Della flies to him, her words spilling forth in a breathless torrent: she has sold her hair to buy him a Christmas present, it will soon grow back, he must not be angry, and would he please wish her a merry Christmas? By degrees, Jim emerges from his trance. Drawing a small parcel from his overcoat, he flings it onto the table.

"Don't misunderstand me, Dell," he murmurs. "No haircut on earth could diminish my love for you in the slightest. But unwrap that package, and you'll grasp why you had me reeling for a moment there."

The parcel yields Jim's gift: a set of exquisite tortoise-shell combs with jewelled rims, the very combs Della had once coveted in a shop window, venerating them from afar without the faintest expectation of ever possessing them.

Clasping the combs to her bosom, she gazes up at him through her tears with a radiant smile and cries, "My hair grows so fast, Jim!" Then, recollecting her own offering, she exclaims, "And look what I've got for you!" She extends the platinum chain on her upturned palm. "Hand me your watch. I'm dying to see how it looks."

Jim, however, makes no move to surrender the watch. Instead, he sinks onto the couch, laces his fingers behind his head, and smiles. "Dell," he says, "let's set our Christmas presents aside and keep them a while. They're far too splendid to use just yet. I sold the watch to raise the money for your combs. And now, perhaps you'd better put the chops on."

Thus each has bestowed upon the other the two finest treasures the household could boast, and in so doing has rendered the other's gift entirely superfluous. And yet, O. Henry insists, of all those who give and receive gifts, these two were the wisest. They, in truth, are the magi.