December's Dance

by Jean Marie Moffa
December 16, 2005

Two days ago, my brain began its dizzying dance--the one called, "You thought your holiday shopping was in order, but you are oh, so wrong." Far away friends, children's teachers, neighbors, paper and mail carriers, the bus driver... There are plenty of little thank you's and I love you's to be mailed and delivered.

Yesterday, I found myself wondering (in a politically correct Grinch sort of way) why we couldn't all just do a little more to simplify our lives, to reduce clutter, excess, and the endless parade of things passed to and from one another.

Then I remembered why I was driving out of my way, to Williams-Sonoma, for a present for my husband Frank: Last Christmas, my friends Dana and Minh gave us a tin of hot chocolate from Williams-Sonoma. They loved it, and knew that we would, too, for this is truly fabulous hot chocolate--literally, a tin of bittersweet chocolate shavings, making something that is leagues above anything else we have all come to think of as hot cocoa. When Frank recently reached the point of rationing what remains of last year's tin, I realized that I needed to get him not one, but two new tins, to help him through our first Michigan winter. Yes, it is the thoughtful gift of friends that continues to warm us, even once we open our own, new tins.

Among my gifts to package up and send is the panettone for Grandma Rose. Every year we send Frank's grandmother a panettone (Italian Christmas bread) and some lovely, imported preserves, for Christmas. And every year, she recalls with pride and happiness, how we never forget. There's the magazine--first of a year's subscription to arrive in the mailbox of two of our favorite boys, Lucas and Christian. Some little bags of specialty chocolate almonds tucked in the mailbox for the postal and paper carriers. Fine soap tied with a good washcloth, for each teacher. A plush dog toy, for Comet, the beagle who lives across the street and is our girls' daily play companion...

These are all small and simple things. Consumable things, for the most part. And things, I must admit even to myself, that are worth sharing--and worth going through the challenges of deciding upon, finding, wrapping and delivering (let us not underestimate these challenges)--because, all aspiring goals of simplicity aside, there is joy, indeed, in giving and receiving.

Today, the snow is falling fast. Here with the packages to wrap, and boxes to ready for the post office, I am on the other side of the past days' dizziness. Now, I can wrap the nuts and panettone and jam... along with all the thanks and love that accompany them. Now I can return to the knitting of socks (also on my Christmas giving list) and to planning our cookie baking and holiday meals. Despite the struggle I have each year with the demands of gift giving, I believe I'll always come back to a couple truths: Simplifying is good, and thought-filled gestures of thanks and love connect us, and are worth the challenges of making them happen.