No Gift Wrapping Needed

The Lay of the Land

By Lyn Messersmith

No Gift Wrapping Needed

            My mom’s parents lived in Omaha, and we only saw them a couple of times a year, so when Christmas came around they sent gifts that would survive mailing. I was their only grandchild, and Grandma loved making me doll clothes; the trouble was that I didn’t care much for dolls. Years later, when I tried making doll clothes for my daughter, I realized what a labor of love it was; luckily, dolls weren’t my daughter’s thing either.

 By the time I reached junior high, Grandma took to sending me a five dollar bill—big money in those days. She always apologized for not shopping instead, and I could never convince her that I absolutely loved, and looked forward to that money; just enough to buy something really special that my weekly cream check allowance wouldn’t cover. 

What goes around comes around, and now I’m in Grandma’s shoes. Well, not really, she wore a size 4 ½. The average shoe size has grown about as much as the amount needed to equal that old time five dollars, and I have many more young people to buy for than Grandma did. So I’ve gone the money route a lot too, even for my own kids. Who knows what anyone really needs these days? But I’m also starting to know how Grandma felt about taking that shortcut to shopping.

Last spring, a family member thanked me for the birthday money, saying she spent it on new boots for one of the kids. “Wait a minute,” I protested. “You were supposed to buy something nice for YOU!” She promised to get herself something later on, and in reality, I know that gifts shouldn’t be conditional.

It’s here again; my holiday shopping dilemma. But recently I read of a person whose monetary gifts are conditional—the recipient has 24 hours to give it away. My imagination went wild. What fun it would be to decide who should benefit! Even better if it could be passed along anonymously. Exciting to know how they used it; oh, but that’s none of my business.

Of course my conscience is still alive and well, and there’s just enough kid in me yet to think everyone should have a little something under the tree to unwrap. Then, a sign, in the form of an envelope containing payment for a long forgotten loan made by my first husband, some years before his death in 1990. It really isn’t my money, is it? So pass it along—some to buy little trinkets for Christmas gifts, and some to give away whole.

If you get cash from me this holiday season you have a week to give some of it away. Pay it forward at the coffee shop, drop some extra in the red kettle, make a payment on your friend’s loan, or simply leave a surprise on someone’s doorstep, ring the bell, and run away. I won’t know if you did; no strings, remember? This is just a challenge to experience an adventure, and share the real spirit of the season. Keep the chain of love going.

Have fun. I know I will.