Gift-giving can be tricky

Like most of you this season, I’m making lists, especially a gift list for the nice and the naughty (How much is coal these days?). But sometimes I’m stumped.

For several years I’d ask Richard what he’d like for Christmas and he’d say whirled peas. Why he yearned for mashed lentils was beyond me, but I finally whipped some peas with butter and milk, and he was completely grossed-out. Turns out he pined for world peace.

Gift-giving. So laden with expectation, confusion and frustration.

It’s an art inborn in some, who always manage that perfect offering, beautifully wrapped and presented with a lovely flourish. Others, lacking the gift gene, are completely hapless, not to mention helpless. This explains why you see dazed men lurching desperately through stores on Christmas Eve, clutching oddments for their loved ones, who will open them with deftly, or not so deftly, concealed horror.

“You’re so sweet, dear, but this leather power tool holster doesn’t quite go with my sweater sets. Perhaps we can find something more my style at the jewelry store.”

Or, “Gee, hon, thanks so much for the musical Elvis wallet; why, I didn’t even know I wanted one! You know, I admired a fly rod the other day.”

This is why gift cards are now so ubiquitous. It’s hard to go wrong there … well, hardly ever (uh, thanks for the Cabela’s card – I’ve always wanted to go camo). With gift cards, the giftee can shop for her/himself, thus unburdening the giver (especially the geographically distant) from brain-freezing choices, not to mention sweaty, pushy crowds and slick roads.

Over decades of Christmases, I can think of few gifts I’ve received that really stand out; the memories of most are lost in my mental oubliette, long gone or happily incorporated into my life, origins forgotten. What I do remember is that I was cherished enough to receive them.

Gifts are tricky. They can carry so much emotional weight. Some people are rigid about equality of offerings and some don’t care; others give without thought of receipt and vice-versa. Some are surprised with an offering and feel guilty if they don’t reciprocate. Others feel they must receive what they’re “due” and others just feel duty squeezing them like a garlic press.

Ah, gifts, both blessing and burden.

Due to our import dependence, this year parents shopping for toys must be careful sleuths in a manner Sherlock Holmes would admire. And they’ll be scrutinizing their children’s gifts like Halloween candy, hunting for unhappy surprises.

“Mommy, don’t take my train away,” wails a small child in the midst of ribbons and tissue. “We’re taking the lead out of Christmas,” sighs Mom, who’s already grimly tossed her red lipsticks.

Ah, the beauty of books – hours of adventure, mystery and magic … and unleaded to boot!

While admiring the “A” side of gifts, though, don’t forget about the “B” side. That would be slogging with post-holiday dread to crowded return counters. Having no receipt means receiving store credit that will buy you all the Valentine’s Day merchandise you want.

But this season, may we not be so busily focused that we neglect to offer a most important gift – acts of kindness.

For example, on a freezing morning, I overheard a woman kindly offer to buy a Salvation Army donation collector a hot coffee; why had I never thought of that?

We can be gracious to footsore, overwhelmed sales associates who cheerfully serve and tidy up after swarms of sometimes irritable shoppers, while about to implode from relentless bombardment of carols rendered in decades’ worth of mixed musical styles.

We can offer empathy and friendship to the lonely and hurting, hold a mall door open for the bundle-laden, drive carefully and courteously on snowy roads; offer a loving look, a hug, an encouragement.

Such gifts reflect the heart of God, who loved us enough to become one of and with us. They can’t be bought, wrapped and laid under a tree. They’re ephemeral, magical, spiritual – easily missed by the inattentive.

No crazed last-minute shoppers can find them.

But in offering them, we’re in tune with the One who, instead of offering whirled peas, offered and will someday bring world peace.