Grandfather's Gift

Morris Pettit, my Grandfather, would have turned 94 today. I always tried to ensure delivery of his birthday gifts on the actual date because, in spite of his unfailing patience in every other aspect of his life, when it came to opening presents, he just couldn't wait. His own timing for deliveries, however, has always seemed perfect.

At the end of his memorial service last month, a member of his church came up to me as I was packing up items from a table of memorabilia and said, "I always admired your grandparents so much. I remember telling your grandmother what a marvelous example their marriage was to all of us. She told me, 'Well, it's easy if you're married to an angel!'..." I smiled, and thanked her, and she walked away.

As I returned to my task at hand, a tiny box fell out of the wad of tissue paper I was holding. I had been through all the items on the table many times in the weeks before the service, and had never seen this box. I opened it... and inside was a tiny cherub. Surely, it was a gift he had purchased for my grandmother and stowed away for safe keeping. But it landed in my lap instead, just when I most needed an angel.

To me, it's proof that the gifts will always keep coming, if you are open to receiving them...

Pearish the Thought

We received these gorgeous pears as a gift over holiday season, individually wrapped in gold-gilt circles of pale green tissue paper, each piece of fruit tinged with the loveliest blush. They were delicious and everyone was delighted to indulge in a luscious, special treat. It's the best kind of present; one that's beautiful and useful and enjoyable, and in this case, nourishing. One that can be shared and doesn't go to waste. We couldn't ask for anything better. Except maybe another case, since we're all out now, perish the thought...

No Quiero Nada

As part of our Advent tradition every year at St. Stephen’s, we erect a Giving Tree in the parish hall. There are different paper cutout ornaments for different age groups at the Canal Street Mission; on the front is a child’s name, and on the back they write something they would like for Christmas. I always try to pick cards for kids that parallel the ages of my own children, the better to imagine the child we’re buying a gift for.

But it’s hard to imagine the five-year-old little girl who wrote on the back of her card, “No quiero nada” – I don’t want anything. I wonder what her life must be like, to make her want to give up on the joy that is Christmas, and it makes me feel so sad. I anguish over what to get her, and then decide that every child needs magic, so I choose some fairy wings and a sparkling musical wand. I wonder if they’ll do the trick.

Maybe, though, just maybe, young Noemi is wise beyond her five years. Perhaps when she wrote “I don’t want anything,” she was really saying “I want for nothing.” It’s possible, that in a life with so little wealth, she’s already discovered that the greatest gifts of all don’t come wrapped in tissue paper. And that idea, that hope, is a gift I’ll carry in my own heart all season long.