My dad gave me a ring when I was in the 8th grade. An inexpensive thing, made up of a semi-precious stone, a tiny diamond chip and a white gold setting. When I was in the 9th grade, I slammed a door on my hand, which smashed the ring on my finger. He had to cut the ring off my finger, leaving me with two parts of a ring (I somehow lost the back half). Fast forward to the 1980s when my girls, who learned of the sentiment I held to that gift, had the ring repaired. That was a wonderful Christmas gift. I now have a piece of my dad and my girls in that ring.

Another gift (although not Christmas related) ~ precious beyond belief ~ was when my dad came and stood behind me at a family meeting earlier this year. The background is complicated and an explanation would be quite lengthy, so I'll just say that, for once in my 50+ years, I truly felt loved by a parent. This begs me to add, never refrain from reaching out to someone. A simple touch of support can mean so much and crack an outer core that otherwise might be impenetrable.

I also want to add that I've truly enjoyed your gift stories. A gift can be as simple as a smile ~ isn't that great!

Hannelore
tell me about your dolls...

Oh Mountain, they weren’t anything valuable or special, except maybe one German doll, with long blond braids and dressed in a red dirndle. I was just a real doll mommy.
I used to pray every night that they would be alive when I wake up in the morning. Now that’s a good example of God knowing what’s best for you.
My mother never saved my toys for me. But I have saved my sons' toys. And now my granddaughter is enjoying their picture books as well.

gimster, loved your ring story. What thoughtful girls.

I'd have to say my favorite gifts have been cards, photos of the kids in frames, or letters. I'm a sentimental fool.

I also have two CDs in my car that I absolutely love. One is from my oldest son and it's a collection of country music. I listen and think of him making it for me and feel so close to him.

The other is from my youngest son and it's my favorite Christian songs. I listen and wonder how he knew they were my favorites. He's attentive.

I also have enjoyed gifts from Ross that have had to do with taking the family to a show and dinner, family dates.

On my 49th birthday (the big 50 is next year), my husband, daughter and I went to Florida to visit my youngest son at college. We stayed at a nice Hilton in Orlando. After our arrival, there was a knock at the door, which I thought was going to be our Florida son. When I answered the door, both sons were there. Ross had flown our oldest in from Clemson, SC where he was attending college. I felt so blessed to be with my family for a couple days. It's rare we are all together.

These are all such wonderful memories! Poppie's romantic story brought tears to my eyes: those who love us listen to the words in our heart more closely than the words on our lips.

I don't have gifts in the way of material things to share here. I have scars. On 7th December 2001, my SIL was in a head-on car collision which claimed the life of the other driver. SIL was on his way to drop off my older grandson to creche. My grandson, who was only 15-months old at that time, escaped unscathed except for a scratch on his right cheek, which has since left a scar. My SIL suffered a completely shattered right pelvis and right femur. In their place is a plate and a rod and 40-inch scar where doctors incised.

The accident happened 18 days before Christmas. Christmas Day 2001 brought my family scars which will always be perpetual reminders of God's love, care and protection. Gifts of life.

P.S.

Not "40-inch" but scars of 40 staples. The doctors did not sew, they stapled. The incision scar is over 24 inches long.

A Best Gift is….

A greeting form a five year old niece when she hasn’t seen you in a while..
a place where you can laugh, cry or be whatever..whenever..without reproach.
The soft prayer whispered quietly in your name

….once received, never forgotten..
or indeed a sorrow showing one a new direction.

A look that would take tears from a stone when ones heart is at its’ hardest…
the caress from a devotee who knows better and wishes only for the best,

….the truth, even when it hurts like hell.

Sharing a bar of the nicest chocolate on the train,
on a Monday morning…
with that one or two persons, out of twenty who meet your gaze with gentleness.

Praying and staying connected to the god of ones choosing….
the autumn morning that screams…’come play with me’

The poem or prayer that becomes your mantra on any given day...

…the song that one sings which evokes the sweetest of emotions,
the morning you get out of bed,
in spite of the bad weather and mood to equal…
to have the best of days…
despite your sulk and/or brood

Believing your are ‘exceptional’ more than enough to have these gratitude’s keeping you comfort in the wee small hours….and that your ‘gifts’ are closer to God given luxuries that must nearly always be shared….

Is a despair that turns into a hope…

Blessings to remember as you read and….
as you stride fourth(or fifth)…into this day with your cherished heart..

it's the beam you are adorning you face with right now….

for, it is not luck that brings us together to share these donated talents…
and the heave in my heart, just now knows exactly who to thank.


Poppie Coia-Elliott

Nov 14th 07

I told lightly about my home made Christmas gifts..revisiting these memories tell me of my birth family.
This year my best gift was collecting the dearest person on earth for me from the Hospital after a stroke in January.
The recovery is a book in itself...indeed I have during training read such accounts...but each day for me is a gift.
A normal workaday blessing.
I did not share with you all at the time...not knowing the outcome .So far so good.

I have had people enter my life who are true stars and I thank them in each prayer.
These same people do for others what they did for us each day and how I wish them well.
Life is golden.
Mountain ash

I read of other cultures here on the forum and can add to most discussions presenting life for me in Scotland .Like many of my generation it was WW2 that shaped me.
The education acts.What was expected of a girl in the U.K.
I bucked that system.I revisited education rare then Thankfully the norm and but for The Open University I would have never had the opportunity to gain insight and learning.Eight years of study allowed me to become self aware.Qualifications opened doors for me.

But its the wife and mother part of my life that is important.The other professional me is enriching but I am wired to nurture.I saw so much of it and is not second best.I can compare a career and homemaking.I am lucky to have had both.
My Christian faith my husband and family my friends all give me the best gift of all.
.......................................
A home making day
Like many before
Is a joy
My clothesline busy
Dancing socks and t shirts
Other ordinary clothes

A washing up bowl
Full of fairy bubbles
A swept floor
Clean tea towels
Flowers on my windowsill
In an old fashioned vase

Busy hands and mind
Thinking only of home
And family
Soup to make
Meals to plan
Time to read the paper

The paving of my life path
Is made of such days
Blended much like the soup
I have planned
Some rain will fall
Followed by sun by noon




We were taught to launder..to food budget and cook.To sew and were expected to marry and let men be the providers.I always yearned to learn..I did. I ived through the bra burning establishing of day care for children and carried the banner politically