Small Gifts

Today I am grateful for small gifts.  So many people think that the grandiose gesture is the way to go, but you’ll get me every time, with the tiny gift that hits dead-on.

A long time ago, when one of my one-act plays, “The Last Quilt” was produced in Bucks County, a dear friend gave me a tiny, ceramic thimble with a flower on the top.  I took that thimble to work and during difficult times, it helped me remember who I am, not who others thought I should be.

Another friend heard that I was thrilled with the way the light caught the crystal balls I had hung in my windows for Christmas, making the house look like a cheap roller-rink, or the set of Dancing with the Stars, depending on my mood.  I mentioned how I was sad to have to finally take them down and she presented me with a small string of multi-colored prisms, which I still have hanging on the kitchen light.

My husband, who traveled to Sri Lanka many times as a consultant, brought me back a quartet of small, hand-carved figurines, each holding a different instrument.  They fit in his luggage and my heart.

I use the small, tapestry coin purse my sister brought back from one of her many travels every single day.  I’ve gotten bells and pieces of lava rock and tiny pill cases and small tea pots.  I would have to go on a search to find all of the little treasures thoughtful people have given me.  When I come across them. . . I remember.

Yesterday, at water aerobics, a woman who becoming a friend, said, “I have something to give you before you leave.”  Oh boy!  I thought about what it might be all through the grueling class.  When we got to the locker room, she handed me a little brown paper bag and said, “Please don’t open it until you get home.  I only brought one for you.  Be careful with it.”  What?  Don’t open it now?  Wait?  I have to wait?  What torture.  I’m not one of those folks who looks at a gift every-way-times-Tuesday before delicately opening it to save the bloody paper.  I’m a ripper.  I waited.

I set the bag on the passenger seat, made a few stops and as soon as I got in the door at home I opened it.  Aw!!!  I remembered my friend being thrilled with getting her serger fixed and here was an adorable, tiny, handmade chick, made with that serger.

Turning it over in my hand I noticed it was carrying a little sign.  I grabbed glasses and read, “Jump” pasted to its wing.  I smiled. It’s a known fact that I enjoy the jumping part of water aerobics most of all.  It will not be packed away after Easter, but live in my china hutch.  

I’m grateful for the little chick, but I’m doubly grateful because, by putting that small word “Jump” on its wing, I know my new friend “gets” me.  Isn’t that the best gift of all?