Yesterday I found a present by my front door. It consisted of two sets of four sturdy plastic lobster plates, 2 packets of lobster bibs and napkins, and a gift bag with a peach praline cake from Texas. Who could have left it?
I wondered if it was from an academic colleague (with whom I was on the phone when I found it; she said it wasn't from her). Was it from someone else in our department? What about our former nanny? Or maybe the priest from the church I used to attend more regularly than I do now. Years ago (could it already be ten) he and his wife came over for a lobster party. Did they remember the party and decide finally to get over my divorce and welcome me back? Or, maybe it was from someone from Maine? Paul and I spent a good half hour trying to figure it out.
I was intrigued--and delighted. How wonderful that someone would leave a gift without a tag. Maybe I should do the same! It would give other adults a little bit of the magic of Christmas. I could do it for a couple of people who would never expect it.
It's frustrating being the person 'in charge' of Christmas. The decorations, the presents, the wrapping, the mailing. The planning of the Christmas eve menu, the shopping and the cooking. And, more: the kids and their friends who join us on the 24th reminded me of the 'annual' treasure hunt--"you know, the one where you write a bunch of clues and hide presents for us in basket?" I was pleased that this was a hit, particularly because the kids say they think this event is even better than Christmas day. But, it's a lot of work--the clues have to fit together, lead from one to another. And I have to figure out where they will be hidden and write little mystery verses. This takes at least 6 hours. I've wished that someone else would do all of Christmas for me.
And then the surprise present! A bit of Santa, a mystery, a surprise. Someone who knows me and thought of me. How wonderful! How thoughtful--I take back all the snide remarks about the tree. I feel invigorated, my Christmas spirit enlivened and restored.
When I checked my phone messages this morning a woman I don't know said that she had accidentally placed a present meant for someone else by my door. Could I please leave it out so she could get it and give it to its proper recipients?
And, at the risk of being too treacly, it's actually okay. The little mystery, the little delight, is still there. The gift, even if it wasn't for me, was still a gift to me.
I wondered if it was from an academic colleague (with whom I was on the phone when I found it; she said it wasn't from her). Was it from someone else in our department? What about our former nanny? Or maybe the priest from the church I used to attend more regularly than I do now. Years ago (could it already be ten) he and his wife came over for a lobster party. Did they remember the party and decide finally to get over my divorce and welcome me back? Or, maybe it was from someone from Maine? Paul and I spent a good half hour trying to figure it out.
I was intrigued--and delighted. How wonderful that someone would leave a gift without a tag. Maybe I should do the same! It would give other adults a little bit of the magic of Christmas. I could do it for a couple of people who would never expect it.
It's frustrating being the person 'in charge' of Christmas. The decorations, the presents, the wrapping, the mailing. The planning of the Christmas eve menu, the shopping and the cooking. And, more: the kids and their friends who join us on the 24th reminded me of the 'annual' treasure hunt--"you know, the one where you write a bunch of clues and hide presents for us in basket?" I was pleased that this was a hit, particularly because the kids say they think this event is even better than Christmas day. But, it's a lot of work--the clues have to fit together, lead from one to another. And I have to figure out where they will be hidden and write little mystery verses. This takes at least 6 hours. I've wished that someone else would do all of Christmas for me.
And then the surprise present! A bit of Santa, a mystery, a surprise. Someone who knows me and thought of me. How wonderful! How thoughtful--I take back all the snide remarks about the tree. I feel invigorated, my Christmas spirit enlivened and restored.
When I checked my phone messages this morning a woman I don't know said that she had accidentally placed a present meant for someone else by my door. Could I please leave it out so she could get it and give it to its proper recipients?
And, at the risk of being too treacly, it's actually okay. The little mystery, the little delight, is still there. The gift, even if it wasn't for me, was still a gift to me.
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