One of my favorite holiday movies is the story of The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry.

The story opens with $1.87. That is all the money that Della Dillingham Young has to buy a present for her beloved husband, Jim, and the next day is Christmas. Faced with such a situation, Della promptly bursts into tears on the couch, which gives the narrator the opportunity to tell us a bit more about the situation of Jim and Della. The short of it is they live in a shabby flat and they are poor in material goods, but very rich in the love that they have for one another.

Once Della’s recovered from the realization that all she has to spend is that $1.87, she goes to a mirror to let down her hair and examine it. Della’s beautiful, brown, knee-length hair is one of the two great treasures of the poor couple. The other is Jim’s gold watch. Her hair examined, Della puts it back up, sheds a tear, and bundles up to head out into the cold. She leaves the flat and walks to Madame Sofronie’s hair goods shop, where she sells her hair for $20. Now she has $21.87.

With her new funds, Della is able to find Jim the perfect present: an elegant platinum watch chain for his watch. It’s $21, and so she buys it. Excited by her gift, Della returns home and tries to make her now-short hair presentable (with a curling iron). She is not convinced Jim will approve, but she did what she had to do to get him a good present. When she finishes with her hair, she gets to work preparing coffee and dinner.

Jim arrives home for dinner at 7 p.m. to find Della waiting by the door and stares fixedly at her, not able to understand that Della’s hair is gone. Della can’t understand quite what his reaction means.

After a little while, Jim snaps out of it and gives Della her present, explaining that his reaction will make sense when she opens it. Della opens it and cries out in joy, only to burst into tears immediately afterward, because Jim has given her the set of fancy combs that she has been wanting, only now she has no hair for them. Jim comforts Della, and once she has recovered she gives Jim his present, holding out the watch chain. Jim smiles and falls back on the couch. He sold his watch to buy Della’s combs, he explains. He recommends they put away their presents and have dinner. As they do so, the narrator brings the story to a close by pronouncing that Della and Jim are the wisest of everyone who gives gifts.

They are in fact, the Magi.

For me, sacrificial living and giving is what my faith calls me to, particularly during this time of the year when so many are in need, whether that need is physical or spiritual. During these particularly difficult economic times, there are many people across the Island, our country, and the world who are living on the margins, and in too many instances, not knowing how they will have the ability to adequately feed and clothe their families, let alone provide them with something special during the holidays.

And as I write this, I am very much aware of and thankful for the dozens of “elves” from all over the Island that have invaded virtually every spare inch of space here at Grace Church to once again bring into reality another Christmas Miracle peculiar to Martha’s Vineyard, which is known as Red Stocking. It is another manifestation of the gift of the Magi, where people from every walk of life come together, combining the resources of this community to insure that those with little do not do without this Christmas.

And yet I am still aware that in spite of these efforts that there are many people who will continue to hurt during this holiday season. There are over 80 — yes eighty — homeless persons known to the clergy on Martha’s Vineyard as of this moment. Some of them will benefit from Red Stocking, but many will not. Regardless of our faith tradition, I believe that it is up to each of us to do whatever we can to bring a bit of light and joy into the lives of the least and lost however we can.

I can only speak from out of the Christian tradition which calls us to bring light into the world’s dark places. Where Christ is, the Christian will talk about light. We have to — there is no better image of what is happening. The light shines in the darkness — as John’s Gospel proclaims. And somehow we understand this and we understand that this truth cannot be fully expressed in any other words.

We probably understand because we know about darkness — we know what it is like to live in and with darkness. Think of what it is like to try to walk through an unfamiliar room that is in total darkness— or to wake up confused in the middle of the night — trying to get somewhere. We know what it’s like when we don’t know where things are, and when we don’t know what we have just bumped into, or whether we’re going where we want to go, or if the next step will be okay, or if we will break something and make a mess. We know how easy it is to go in circles in the dark, and to get turned around, or to stub a toe and get angry and hit whatever is handy. Many among us also know what it is like to live like that in broad daylight.

I want to conclude with one of my other favorite stories, and this is specifically about Christmas.

I believe that there is some unwritten rule of all Christmas pageants — they never come off quite as they are planned.

There was a certain church whose young people were performing the pageant, complete with the requisite manger scene. All of the characters were in place and at the ready. Mary and Joseph and the angels in position, and a single light bulb shining from the manger representing Jesus, the true light coming into the world.

The moment came for the shepherds to enter, everyone looking pious and prepared. Then the shepherds entered. As they approached the manger, the person playing one of the shepherds looked at Joseph and in a whisper loud enough for only the cast to hear asked, “Well, Joe, when are you gonna pass out the cigars?” The spell was shattered and the cast burst into laughter. The chief angel standing on a chair overlooking the scene laughed so hard that she fell off her perch, bringing down the backdrop and the manger with her. The set was destroyed, but the only thing that didn’t waver was that single light shining from the manger. The lesson from all of this is that the newborn baby in the manger is the light of the world, and that even when the world around you appears to have been destroyed, that light still shines to illuminate the darkness of our hurting and sorrowful lives.

The light of Christ, the word made flesh, comes among us at Christmas — and we celebrate its coming into the world. God reveals God’s love to us in Christ. That first Christmas, in the smelly darkness of a stable the light shone — and it continues to shine — and continues to allow us to see, and to show a world living in darkness what we have seen. For by that light we have been given power to become children of God and to take our places with the light. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did, and still, does not overcome it.

On behalf of all of us at Grace Church, I want to wish you all the very best that this season has to offer, and a safe and prosperous New Year for us all.

The Rev. Robert Hensley is the minister at Grace Episcopal Church in Vineyard Haven.