Swooping for a Present
A friend of mine is holidaying abroad and I demanded that I better get a present. When asked what I wanted, I said that it has to be small and cheap, but should have character.
Yes, character. The kind that some inanimate objects possess in higher quantities than their animated cohabitants. Us.
And of such gifts that I got, the most endearing are those that were randomly picked up. Stones, rocks, pebbles top the pile here. I have a growing collection of earthy bits swiped off from various nooks, crannies and crevices from all over the earth.
Just today, I got a bag of gravel that my little brother picked up from a construction site in a nearby island. He said that the moment he saw the battered stones, he rushed over to pick them up, because he had noticed my ever increasing presents pile.
I can just imagine him fisting up the sharp edged stones and shoving them in his pockets, all the while excited about how excited his big brother would be when he eventually presented his hurried harvest.
And big bro was, majorly!
Now that’s a present with character. And I have displayed the shiny specked grey stones across the shelf. Just think of the story of thoughts that went into them being scattered there.
Do you see it?
Over the years, I have accumulated quite a lot of these. Small pebbles from a stream in Geneva, granite chips from the trail leading to Khyber Pass, a bit of a cobblestone from a narrow walkway in London, sand grains from Liberty Island, a red rock from an island near Bali, a lump of lava from Iceland…the list goes on and on.
Each and every one of these presents, when received, has a meeting, loud exclamations of gratitude, long conversations, and recollection of travels.
But the most important of all this is that I was there, in their thoughts, when they swooped down to do some collecting.
Inexpensive and effortless. Wholly priceless.
Now, that’s a true present.
LogsLeft.
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[...] Posted by LogsLeft on 20 June 2010 · Leave a Comment So I mentioned my wee brother in my previous post, Swooping for a Present. [...]


I shall keep this in mind and not bring any more novels as gifts.
A novel gift need not be a novel!