Don't Hate, Appreciate!

Today is my mom's birthday. (My gift to her is to not disclose her advanced age in such a public forum ... you're welcome, Mom.)

It makes me think about all the gifts I gave her over the years, and how earnestly she showed her appreciation for them - even though some the vast majority of them sucked. Lids torn from cigar boxes, covered with paper I'd drawn on, and trimmed with lace. A polished rock glued onto an adjustable ring, where the gemstone should be. Strange bits of cloth "sewn" into weird shapes. I was so proud of all these gifts, so sure she'd love them - and why? Because she did love them ... or at least pretended to with an Oscar-worthy believability.

Before I had kids, I worried about my own ability to appreciate such gifts. Would a wilted dandelion or nondescript glittery blob really have the power to bring a genuine smile to my face? I doubted it. But I was surprised, because you know what? With kids, it truly is the thought that counts. You know that their goal was to make you happy - and that in itself is so heartwarming that, no matter what the gift, it's impossible not to love it.

Which is why I nearly cried when, after a recent excursion to Bible school, Colin ran up to me excitedly. He was holding something behind his back and grinning from ear to ear. With a proud exclamation of, "Look what I made for you, Mommy!" he produced the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen:

I swear to you, it could have been made with dried mouse turds and I would have had the same reaction - because I knew he had been thinking of me. He loved me. And he wanted to give me something special.

So thanks, Mom, for all the years of making me feel like every gift was a treasure. That's so important. As a token of my appreciation, I'm sending you a bracelet of dried macaroni, dipped in glue and sprinkled with every color of glitter I could find.

You're welcome. :)