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One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. Sixty cents of it was in pennies. For each of those pennies, she had to haggle with the grocer, the greengrocer, and the butcher, so much so that even her ears burned from the silent disapproval that such thriftiness evoked. Della counted it three times. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And tomorrow is Christmas.
The only thing she could do was flop onto the old couch and cry. And that's exactly what Della did. From this, one can draw the philosophical conclusion that life consists of tears, sighs, and smiles, and sighs predominate...
(c) O. Henry. The Gift of the Magi.
I've loved his short stories since childhood. It's a classic...
You can read it here.
I recommend it - rereading his stories always lifts my spirits, and I think: Well, maybe things aren't so bad in this damned world after all!