The Gift That Keeps on Giving

A few years ago, I met a woman named Melissa, who told me about a birthday gift she received as a child. Her grandmother had given her a simple paint set. To Melissa, the gift didn’t seem extraordinary at first. She dipped the brush into the colours and painted what any child might — messy rainbows, abstract people, and a handful of crooked flowers. Her parents praised her work, but it was her grandmother who said something that would stay with her forever: “This is not just paint. This is a gift to see the world in colours that others miss.”

Years later, Melissa became an art therapist. That seemingly small gift had awakened something in her, a natural talent nurtured by grace. She discovered that her ability to paint and her capacity to understand others’ emotions through art was more than just a skill — it was a calling, a gift deepened and sanctified by God’s grace.


In today’s readings, we encounter two profound stories of gifts—not just human talents, but divine gifts of grace that change the course of history.

The prophet Isaiah speaks to King Ahaz, offering him a sign from God. Though Ahaz hesitates to ask for anything, God’s gift is announced nonetheless: “The virgin shall conceive and bear a son and shall call his name Immanuel.” This is no ordinary gift. It is a promise of God’s abiding presence, a sign that God chooses to dwell with humanity.

God’s gift to us in the form of Immanuel — “God with us” — is pure grace. It is not earned, not deserved, but freely given. The people of Judah faced uncertainty, fear, and political turmoil. Into that darkness, God’s promise shone like a beacon of hope.

This divine gift also reminds us that grace often comes to us in ways we don’t expect, and sometimes even in ways we struggle to comprehend.

We witness another encounter with grace in the Gospel. The angel Gabriel appears to Mary and greets her with stunning words: “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you.” Mary is perplexed, even troubled. How can this be? How can she, a humble woman, receive such a message?

Gabriel explains that she has been chosen to bear the Son of God. The gift she is offered is not just the gift of motherhood, but the profound and mysterious gift of participating in God’s redemptive plan. Her natural openness, humility, and courage are elevated by God’s grace. Mary’s “Yes” becomes the doorway through which God’s grace enters the world in the flesh.

Mary’s story reminds us that God’s gifts often build upon the natural gifts we already possess. Melissa’s ability to paint was a natural talent, but it became a channel of healing and love through grace. Similarly, Mary’s faith, her willingness to trust, and her capacity for love were all human gifts that God transformed and magnified through divine grace.

We each carry our own unique set of natural gifts—talents for teaching, listening, creating, organizing, or encouraging. These gifts are precious and necessary, but they take on new meaning when surrendered to God’s grace. They become instruments of God’s love in the world.

Both Isaiah’s prophecy and Mary’s Annunciation ask us to reflect: How open are we to receiving God’s gifts? Are we willing to trust that the gifts we’ve been given, whether ordinary or extraordinary, can be used by God in ways we might not yet understand?

Mary’s response, “Let it be done to me according to your word,” is a model for us. When we say “Yes” to God’s grace, even our simplest talents can become avenues for God’s glory.

In this season of preparation and reflection, let us take a moment to recognize both our natural gifts and the gifts of grace that God has woven into our lives. Like Melissa, like Mary, may we see that every gift, when nurtured by God’s grace, can become something far greater than we ever imagined.

What gift is God inviting you to unwrap and share with the world?