The Gift

Dawn Scott was a young woman who must have considered herself very fortunate. Not only did she have a boyfriend with whom she was deeply in love, but the other important man in her life, her father, thought highly of the young man, as well.

Perhaps the usual paternal possessiveness was set aside because Dawn’s father had enjoyed a very close relationship with his wife’s father. In fact, before he died, Dawn’s grandfather had given her father a special gift; a pocket knife.

"My father treasured it with all his might," wrote Dawn. "Wherever he went, the knife would be right along there with him."

He was understandably upset, then, when the knife went missing, during the winter of 1988. A thorough search was made, but the beloved knife could not be found.

Not long after, Dawn’s father was out of town when he recalled that he may had dropped the knife by the wharf, back in Nelson. He called home and asked if Dawn’s boyfriend would mind going down there to take a look.

"My boyfriend and my father liked one another very much," Dawn explained, "and to please my father was something my boyfriend always liked to do." The young man went down to the wharf and searched for an hour but unfortunately, found nothing. He was upset, feeling that he had let the older man down. Dawn’s father, though disappointed, thanked him and told him not to worry.

Two months later, the loss of the pocket knife was likely put into perspective when real tragedy struck. Dawn’s boyfriend was killed in a terrible car accident. Her entire family shared her grief, particularly her father, who felt had had lost a good friend.

Early one morning, two weeks after the young man’s death, Dawn and her mother were awakened by her father’s startled cries.

"I came running out of my room," she recalled. "My father’s face was white. He was shaking all over. I could tell he was on the verge of tears." When he calmed down enough to explain what had happened, the story that came out was astonishing.

He told Dawn and her mother that Dawn’s boyfriend had come to visit him while he slept. He clearly saw him sit down on the edge of the bed and heard him as he said his goodbyes.

"My mother tried telling him it was just a dream, just nonsense. But my father wouldn’t listen," Dawn wrote. And then he told them something even more unbelievable.

"He finally said … very calmly and serenely … that my boyfriend had returned his pocket knife."

Dawn’s eyes met her mother’s. They shook their heads sadly; obviously, Dawn’s father was upset, perhaps even delusional. But suddenly, the distraught man turned his closed hand palm-up and opened his fingers. Dawn will never forget what she saw.

"In his hand lay the pocket knife my grandpa had given my father as a gift before he died."

Returning the treasure, and thereby performing one final favour, was a gesture of friendship extended from beyond the grave.