The Perfect Present

Here we are. That time of year again. Time to figure out what to give everyone on our Christmas lists. The masters of marketing are ramping up their efforts to bombard us with the latest toys, gadgets and extravagances. I actually saw a Lamborghini in a showroom window with a bow on it just last week. Really.

christmasgiftboxI love giving. There are few feelings quite so gratifying as getting just the right thing for just the right person. It’s joyful and far better than receiving. I often wish that I could give something to humanity as a whole.

Well, here’s a thought: Maybe I can, and maybe you can, too.

Are you aware of the fact that the greatest gifts any of us have ever been given are our talents? That each one of us, whether we’ve identified them or not, were given some unique abilities that are just ours and no one else’s? It’s true, and it’s a damned shame if we don’t try and regift at every opportunity.

You may have a talent that you’re fully aware of but afraid to share – that one thing that comes easily to you and brings you joy. Know that sharing it will also bring joy to others and make floating around on this blue and green orb all worthwhile. And, like a lot of bullies, fear will back down if you confront it, anyway. It’s secretly wimpy that way.

Regift your talents and abilities this holiday season. If you want to put a bow on your head while you do it, I say, CHEERS!!

Merry Christmas, everyone, and may 2015 see you expressing the truest version of ourselves.

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Santa Claus Made Me Sick

Santa 60s

Oh, yes, it’s true. Every year as a child, I got so excited about Santa that I became physically ill. No lie. I couldn’t eat Christmas dinner until the age of seven or so, and the smell of turnip turned my stomach for years.

With SantaOkay, so maybe it wasn’t this particular Santa (look left) that I got excited about. He appears a tad bit sinister, but the jolly version that came down our chimney? I’d go into a frenzy over his arrival.

I don’t know what got me so excited in hindsight. It wasn’t entirely the toys, as much as I loved to receive them, and obviously I didn’t anticipate dinner. Maybe the magic of the season caused the upset stomach and pasty shade of pale. Believing that someone with that generous a spirit would visit our house, eat our cookies, and think in some way that we were special? Wow! Then again, maybe the fact that my older brother made the nice instead of naughty list made my stomach turn. Tee hee.

I don’t know how kids can stand it in this “modern age.” It’s ridiculous how advertising for Christmas begins right after Halloween. If they’d done that in the 60s, I would have ended up hospitalized.

Is it just me, or does Christmas come far too early now? Must we perpetuate the commercialism of the season by advertising on the first of November? Could we not just let kids feel theChristmas 62 mystery and magic of the season in a less price-tagged, down-your-throat manner, and for a shorter period of time? Postpone the insanity by a few short weeks?

Of course, the question that begs to be asked here is: “Has Leana finally reached the age where she’s spouting off sentences that start with Back in my day . . . ?”

Yes, I suppose I have, but back in my day things seemed a whole lot simpler, and I’m grateful to have grown up when I did. Of course, if you don’t know any different, I suppose it all seems just as magical to kids now as it did to me then.

Does the prolonged Christmas madness deprive kids of getting sick over Santa’s arrival, or does it save them from it? Maybe having more time to think about it stretches the nauseating anticipation out to a thin, benign thread.

I have no idea, but I do know one thing: If I hear Madonna’s version of “Santa Baby” one more time, I’m going to vomit.

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