I sat in the stillness tonight and found my thoughts dancing about me like the swirl of the wind, memories flooding about in my mind and I suddenly found myself wondering. I love Christmas, much like a child craves the taste of candy. The smell, the flicker of lights, the marvel of its true meaning...I have never been one to wish for gifts, I much rather sitting back and watching the sparkling eyes of someone recieving a gift from me. As a child I relished the thought of giving the perfect gift. I still feel that way, so much so that I worry about finding the perfect gift. But what is the perfect gift? every person is different, every wish varies and thus the root of my dismay. It was in the midst of this pondering, that I recalled a gift I had recieved as a small child. It was not Christmas, my birthday or any day that was deemed worthy of celebration. It was actualy the day before my friend moved away. We lived across the street from each other and he was my confidant, my playmate, my first friend. I was 5 and he was 6. All I remember is his making his way across the street with a stuffed toy twice his size and presenting it to me as a going away present. That stuffed toy was no substitute for my friend but it brought me comfort many times over the years. Truth is I never wanted a stuffed toy, I didn't ask for one and I would have prefered having my friend across the street but I never forgot the image of the jesture and thus this unexpected stuffed toy became my perfect gift...could it be that it truly is the thought that counts.
Deo Volente
November 22, 2009
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