I don’t remember all the details.  I was young.  What I do remember is the little American flag and the intense desire to make my father happy.  Allow me to fill in the blanks with my best guesses. 

I had gone with the neighbors to a flea market or something similar.  I searched up and down the isles for that perfect something.  Not something for myself.  I wanted to buy a gift for my father.  I didn’t have much money, I’m not sure if I had any.  Maybe the neighbor bought my gift for me?  No matter, it wasn’t the money that counted.

I finally found something that I was certain my dad would love.  Looking back I feel a bit silly.  I waited with anticipation as the item was paid for and wrapped in a brown paper bag.  I held it with care, making certain it wouldn’t be damaged or misplaced before we got home.

When we finally arrived back at our home on Raintree Road, I proudly carried my gift inside and presented it to my father.  I don’t remember his reaction as he pulled that “Made in China” hand-held American flag out of the bag but it must have been a positive one because I distinctly remember the satisfaction of feeling like I had made his day.  It must have impacted me deeply because after all these years, I can’t forget that little flag or the joy of giving a real gift of love.  And looking back, I realize that the value of the gift had nothing do with what I gave, but rather with my desire and motive to give it.  It was the gift of a child’s love for his father.

This is the kind of gift that I long to give to my family and friends this year for Christmas; to my dad and my mom, to Jeff and Aaron (my brothers) and to my closest friends: Phil, Mitch, and Jon.  There is no way that I could wrap up the love and appreciation that I have for them.

Photo by mmlolek

They are my gifts everyday.

Give real gifts.

Merry Christmas!

2 thoughts on “Gifts

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s