Gift-Receiving 101

In 1975 you could buy a little index card with 24 tiny holes that held 12 pairs of earrings. The cards cost $3.99 and were intended to offer one person a wide selection of styles and colors. Instead, with my small allowance and big desire to give I cut the card into 12 little squares, wrapped 11 little gifts and kept the ugliest pair for myself. It didn't matter that they weren't worth their weight in nickel-free stainless steel. I just liked wrapping and tying tiny bows. But most of all, I liked giving.

Gift-Giving 101 is full of helpful hints on how to find the perfect gift, but I'm not a subscriber. I prefer giving things that can be tucked away and used from time to time (travel accessories, recipe cards and portable kleenex holders for allergy season) or things that are disposable (notecards that get mailed, candles that get burned and potholders that get dingy). Once I gave my friends a framed quote about life. I removed the hangers from the frames because I didn't think I should choose what got hung on their walls. My instructions were to hide the quote at the bottom of their underwear drawer to encourage a reread at the time of rediscovery. It's the  underwear-drawer-cleaning-days that we really need a reminder of what life's all about.

Seeing that there are two ends to every bow and no websites called Gift-Receiving 101, I follow my father-in-law's rule that once a gift is given, so are the rights to ownership. As a giver I've seen a scarf used as a tablerunner, a handmade book used as a block of scrap paper and an oversized dishtowel used as a breakfast placemat. Instead of lamenting that my labors of love are misinterpreted, I silently applaud my friends for their creativity.

As a receiver, my new ownership should entitle me to return, recycle, regift and repurpose guilt-free. Until the rule is universally accepted, I'm afraid I'll be misunderstood. Fortunately, my close friends are getting used to the transformations and are no longer offended.  I've decoupaged a clock, cut off the welcoming cows on a cast iron doorbell, and exchanged an $89 t-shirt for a pair of earrings that I'm still wearing 17 years later. The gifts were given (and received) with love, they just didn't fit my style (or lack thereof). I didn't want to hide them in my underwear drawer because that wasn't part of their instructions for use. Better to be seen in a different light, than no light at all.

If the overabundance of gifts I've received from my friends' holidays (a bottle of sand from Miami Beach, a silver spoon from London, a key chain from Corfu...) were displayed on a dusty shelf I wouldn't SEE them anymore. And if they'd been tossed in the donate bin, I wouldn't HAVE them anymore. Instead, they're joyfully unwrapped every twelve months and hung on my Christmas tree.

Had I learned the phrase "It's more blessed to give than to receive" instead of "it's better to give than to get" I might have understood (before today when I was googling 'receiving') that it was a message from God, instead of just something big people said. And if He'd invented the Christmas tree instead of just Christmas, He would have understood the importance of receiving. For without receivers, givers can't give. And if my giving friends hadn't thought of me in the souvenier shop in Spain and the bazaar in Bucharest I'd be without my yearly reminder of what life's all about.