Todd was a sadly quiet 11-year-old struggling to adjust to the death of his mother. His father had left long ago, and Todd was living with an aunt who made it known she resented the responsibility.

On several occasions, his teacher Sheryl heard his aunt tell him, “If it weren’t for my generosity, you’d be a homeless orphan.”

Sheryl took extra pains to make Todd feel valued in class and encouraged his interest in making things. Just before Christmas break, Todd shyly presented her with a small decorated box he’d made.

“It’s beautiful,” Sheryl gushed.

Todd replied, “There’s something special inside that my mom gave me before she died. She said it’s the one thing I can give and still have plenty left over. It helps you feel better when you’re sad and safe when you’re scared."

As Sheryl started to open the box, Todd warned her, “Oh, you can’t see it.”

Sure enough, the box was empty.

“Well, what is it?” Sheryl asked kindly.

“It’s love. You’re the first person since my mom whom I love.”

Sheryl hugged Todd tightly. “I’ll treasure this forever," she said. "It’s the best gift I ever got.”

She kept it on her desk until she retired and touched it whenever she was sad or scared. It never failed to make her heart smile.

Years later, Todd sent her the tassel he wore during his graduation from medical school. It’s been in the box ever since.

In truth, love – not diamonds – is the gift that keeps on giving. What’s more, love generates itself. The more you give away, the more you have left.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.