The people that care enough about me to want to give me a gift share a common problem… I am a hard person to buy gifts for. I don’t collect nick nacks of any sort, and am at a stage in my life where I am trying to get rid of possessions rather than collect them. I do want things, and do buy things, but especially since the advent of Amazon Prime, I pretty much get what I want when I want it.
I know this is hard on the folks in my life around birthday and Christmas time. I try my best to come up with a list of things I’d like, but often fail because I don’t want much.
I bring this up because a gift from my son arrived in the mail the other day that blew my doors off. Alice and I had recently visited New York City, and visited a special place in Central Park, which I wrote about earlier. It turned out that son Steve was staying in New York a few weeks after we left, and brought his camera gear along. He took some (film) pictures of the Bethesda statue that Alice and I visited, printed the one he liked best, and sent it along to me:
What made this gift so touching was it came from an understanding of what that place meant to me, and the artwork moved from his soul to mine, like a subway train throwing sparks along the way. Great art touches us in unexpected and indescribable ways. When you’ve been touched you know it. And you’ll likely never be the same again.
You are blessed with a thoughtful and caring son. Because of you and Alice we are richly blessed too.
Comment by Chris Moore — May 6, 2015 @ 10:58 am