"Christmas, the season of gifts"—a dreadful phrase, exploited for consumer greed. Especially now, in hard times that hit so many of us. And yet I want, in my modest way, to give some real gifts this year. Gifts that cost nothing in money but ask for labor and commitment.
For instance:
I want to find the right words to finally, once and for all, put to rest that old resentment between me and... that person. The kind that lingers for years, that we can't seem to overcome, that hurts us both.
I want to give my sad friend the belief that despite his mistakes and failures, he can push through his difficulties and limits. That it takes staying the course, trying again, finding new ways forward, trusting his friends.
I want to offer the recognition someone truly deserves—to show all my respect for the person who works quietly, without fanfare, accomplishes real things, yet gets no credit because of jealousy or neglect.
Now, if I were to give an actual gift, I'd draw inspiration from something a dear friend told me recently. She had been married for years and always asked her husband to bring her flowers. But he never did. Maybe he thought them pointless, or silly, or wasteful. Who knows.
Then one morning she woke to find her entire house filled with oleanders. Picture it: pink and white oleanders in the bedroom, pink and red in the living room, green leaves and white oleanders in the kitchen. What a wonder.
It turned out the metro station's hedge had just been trimmed. Her husband, who worked for the transit authority, remembered his wife's wish and had gathered armfuls of the cuttings. During the night, he had decorated their whole home.
Some people might see this as a joke, a way of getting off cheap. But I saw the smile on that wife's face as she told the story, and I understood: it was a tender gesture, a playful show of attention from someone who knows he is truly understood and welcomed with joy and gratitude, no matter what form the gift takes or what it costs.
That's the kind of gift I want to give. Happy Christmas to all.
Pennablù, 2011