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We have struggled through car repairs at many inopportune times.

One such time was two days before Christmas 1987. We had been married only one year and were short on car expertise and money, so we did what young married couples often do: We called my mom and dad for help.

It did not take long for my dad to figure out that the car’s battery was dead. Using jumper cables, he charged the battery. He told us we should get the battery and car checked out so we could rule out any other problems with the car. He and my mom would follow close behind in case we needed help along the way.

The trip from our High Point apartment to Greensboro was a long, painful process. The car continued to cut off and need to be recharged several times along the way.

Eventually, we made it to Sears Automotive in Friendly Shopping Center where we learned that the car needed a new battery and a new alternator.

Again, we began the process of driving the car to the mechanic my father used. My mom and dad drove my husband and me home that night after dinner.

The next day, Christmas Eve, my dad picked me up so that I could go to my job as a customer service clerk at Belk in Carolina Circle Mall.

After work, he picked me up and drove me to their house because my husband and I already had plans to spend the night there.

As he drove, he told me how much the repair bill was. Knowing we were short on cash, my dad had paid for the repairs.

Concerned about how much money we now owed my parents, I asked Dad if he had a payment plan. He just laughed.

On Christmas morning, we exchanged gifts with my parents. At the end of our time of opening gifts, my dad handed me an envelope.

On the outside, it read, “Paid in Full.” Inside were the various invoices for getting our car fixed. It took me completely by surprise.

My dad did not want us to pay him back. He covered the cost of the repair with his own money. In an instant, our debt to my dad was wiped clean and forgotten.

Returning home later that day, I tucked the envelope among paperwork that needed to be filed.

I had no idea that this would be our last Christmas celebration with my dad. He died a few short months later.

After my dad’s death, my husband and I moved from our apartment in High Point to a townhouse in Jamestown. Everything not needed right away was stashed in our second bedroom. Now and then, as I had time, I would sort through things one box at a time.

On one of those occasions, I came across that envelope my dad had given me his last Christmas with us.

Those words “Paid in Full” stood out to me in a new way as I held the papers in my hands.

I began to think of our heavenly father who had given us the gift of his son, Jesus, one Christmastime many years ago. That gift became the payment for the sins of the world many years later when Jesus died on the cross.

When I accepted Jesus into my heart as a 9-year-old, God saw my sin debt to him as “Paid in Full,” as well.

I was struck by the poignancy of my earthly father’s gift and how, even from the grave, I was touched again by his life and this gift.

My father had given me so much more than just money to cover a bill; he gave me a reminder of the greatest Christmas gift of all — God’s son, Jesus, who had come to pay a debt he didn’t owe, just because he loved us so.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

Linda Vestal is a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend living in Gibsonville. Contact her with comments or story ideas at lindavestal@triad.rr.com.