True Gifts

How to Spend Less and Give More

Give TRUE gifts that will never be forgotten



         

      According to the American Consumer Credit Council, in 2009 the average American family spent $938.00 each year on Christmas gifts. Yikes! I have some “council” of my own. Spend less. Give more. Give things that matter. Give a portion of yourself. Make a memory. I know it may take a little more time, but you can always make time. “True gifts” are usually never created quickly or without effort. I remember hearing once that a sacrifice is when you give up something good for something better. I like that. I believe that love and sacrifice are the escorts to meaningful gifts and the irrefutable evidence that you actually spent your own time and energy in a gift. I think this is what mister Ralph Waldo Emerson was referring to when he said:

"Rings and jewels are not gifts but apologies for gifts. The only true gift is a portion of yourself."

I don’t want to be one of those people who just give apologies for gifts. Giving a cheap “made in China” gift is better than nothing, but it will not be remembered. I give too many of these gifts. I apologize to all who have been recipients.

So even if you are forced to give a last minute, afterthought apology as a gift, at least accompany the gift with a thoughtful letter of love or appreciation. A small genuine paragraph about why the recipient matters to you will likely outlast the forgotten gift you give. And the words you attentively place on the card will be replayed and revisited again and again, and again. Because as Mother Teresa observed, “Kind words are short to speak, but their echoes are endless.”

         My observation…is that the value of the remembered gift is not so much the thing itself, or even in the act of giving it. The true value of a gift is found in what the gift represents or what else besides money went into its creation. Even the smallest gifts made with personal sacrifice and love will outshine the brightest “rings and jewels.” Allow me to illustrate.

I was once given a small square pillow approximately twelve inches on every side. The material, stuffing and thread required in making the pillow probably has a collected cost of less than four dollars. So why is this small pillow one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given? Lean in close, as I tell this story reverently.

         I was 21 years old and 1280 miles away from home. The Sherwood family, who lived and operated a large dairy farm in Monet, Missouri temporarily and unofficially, adopted me. I was their guest for dinner almost every week and they always saved a seat for me next to them at church. Cheer, their nine-year-old, long, dark-haired and deep-brown-eyed daughter, became extra special to me. Whether at the dinner table or at church, the seat they saved for me was always next to Cheer, just as she orchestrated it.  In addition to a hug, she would give me a small gift, usually a handmade note she had written or a picture she had recently drawn. Cheer was a great giver of gifts. 

    While at their farmhouse, after dinner and a little violin concert, Cheer showed me a patch quilt she was making. She had just completed the “center piece” which consisted of a twelve-inch square mosaic of 41 separate pieces of cloth she had sewn together. I was impressed that a nine-year-old who had a killer baseball swing and could intimidate a had 800 lb cow also had such domestic ability (the fruits of resourceful farm life). The patch quilt’s future was certain to become an heirloom. I lingered at their house longer than normal that night knowing it may be the last time I saw them. I was flying home the next morning.

         The sun had just come up and I could see my breath in the cool autumn morning. I had just loaded the last duffle in the car and was ready to head to the airport when Cheer’s older sister barreled in with her car and slammed the brakes in the gravel driveway. Bolting out the car, she threw her shoulders back and looked up at the sky and said in a relieved tone, “I’m soooo glad we caught you before you left. Cheer made me promise I’d get this to you. And I didn’t want to chase you all the way to the airport!”

She then presented a large brown grocery sack with the top rolled down half way like a handle and then she watched me with anticipation. I unrolled the bag and reached inside. I found two gifts. The first was a picture of Cheer. On the back she had written, “Don’t forget me.” The second gift was the centerpiece of her quilt, which she had made into a pillow for me. Her heirloom had now become my heirloom.

         “I can’t believe, she made this for me.” I said in sincere awe.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Her sister insisted. Then she proceeded to tell me that Cheer had labored until 4:00 in the morning making the pillow. The sewing machine had broken forcing her to sew the pillow together by hand. When it came time to stuff the pillow, Cheer searched the hall closet in vain. They were out of stuffing. She was devastated. At three-thirty in the morning she wasn’t able to buzz down to the store to buy stuffing. Undaunted, she ran to her bedroom and snatched her Teddy Bear from her bed. She then placed it on the kitchen table, a makeshift operating table, and began the stuffing-ectomy. She carefully cut the side of the Teddy Bear open and transplanted the stuffing from the Bear to my pillow. The Teddy Bear made a great sacrifice, but it was nothing compared the sacrifice Cheer had made.

Cheer is a great giver of gifts and a perfect example on how to spend less, and give more. She showed me giving is not about how much money you spend. Giving is about how much love you spend.



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