The Laughing Buddha, legends say, Was born in China, on an ancient day. His heart was big and his belly GRAND! He carried a bowl and a sack close to hand.

Like a Zen Santa, I'd say he was, Except he was bald as a peach, with FUZZ. He'd look at each child with a magical twinkle, And pull from that sack, in the corner, by a wrinkle ...

... JUST the right gift at JUST the right time, He'd do it without effort or reason or rhyme. "Oh, thank you Santa," each child would say, Except in Chinese, in their inscrutable way.

I, a young monk, asked the great man, As we walked on the path, bowl and sack in hand, "How do you guess? How do you know? What gift to offer? What seed to sow?"

The Laughing Buddha gave a great chuckle. He laughed so hard I thought his knees might buckle. "It's easy, when you know where to begin: Picture their face and look within.

"The greatest gift doesn't come in a box, It's rarely a doll and it's never more socks. The greatest gift comes from the heart. That's the very best place to start."

The Buddha winked once, patted his belly twice, Then disappeared in a shower of rice. He left me the bag to hand out more stuff. Why, there's something for YOU, right under this fluff!