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Selfish simians that we all are at heart, it is only natural that we're much happier when we receive. It starts when we're little kids, and the anticipation of an upcoming birthday and the annual holiday season can be the most joyful events of our lives. I was age six when I was sent to a home for fatherless boys, and I still clearly remember the first Christmas gift I ever received in my life. It was an Erector kit, complete with all the little aluminum beams and screw-on bolts. I didn't just play with that kit for at least a year. I built houses, barns and service stations.

The childlike thrill of receiving is a wonderful part of life, and nothing can take its place. However, just as important is the emotion we feel later when we're giving to others. I hope I've done my share over the years, to my spouse, my siblings, my kids and to others who needed my help. One example of my giving became for me one of the greatest gifts in my life. I can remember in 1945, when World War II was finally ending, and I was assigned to fleet headquarters in Manila. We lived in Quanset huts near the fleet landing, and had just about all the comforts of life.

However, all around us were the ruins of a once beautiful city, which the Japanese had systematically destroyed as they retreated in the war's last campaign. In addition to their ravaging of the city, the Japanese had indiscriminately murdered hundreds of thousands Filipinos. The war ended, and just before Christmas, we were dismantling our base and preparing to go home. We all thought we were hard-nosed swabbies, and didn't give a damn for anyone. But we were wrong.

I suggested that we gather all our extra gear and supplies that weren't required to be turned in to Navy authorities, and give it to the local citizens. Since I was an old man of 20 by then, and senior in rank to all the others, mostly age 17 and 18, in my unit, I made it an order. After some griping, the other sailors eventually came around to my way of thinking. First, we gathered all the canned and packaged food ... the unbeloved K-rations, Spam and others ... loaded up our jeep and went to the most devastated, bombed-out neighborhoods. Most of the families were living in huts or lean-to shacks made from scrap aluminum and cardboard. The nearby Pasig River served for both washing and waste disposal.

As we drove along the cluttered streets, my sailors jumped out and gave handfuls of the preserved foods to each family. It took us two days, but we managed to empty those supplies where they would do the most good. Our other disposal task was probably the most satisfying. Because of the mass killings of civilians by the Japanese, there were hordes of orphan kids roaming the city, living on hand-outs from agencies including the Red Cross and Salvation Army. Or, sadly, dying of disease, neglect and starvation.

We had just been issued new Navy uniforms for our trip home, but still had large supplies of khaki Army-type fatigues we had worn during the fighting in the city. We gathered everything from our own seabags and storage lockers, jumped into our trusty jeep again, and sought out gangs of homeless kids. With every group, we lined up each kid, estimated clothing sizes, and presented him or her with a complete new wardrobe, including GI blouses, pants, socks, shoes, underwear and pith helmets. Of course, most of the clothing was much too large, but the kids put them on with pride and marched around saluting us.

For that moment in my life, I can truly say it was worth much more to give than receive. Of course, the point can be made that by giving, I also received large helpings of love and personal satisfaction that I still treasure today.

Learn more about this author, Ted Sherman.
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