Okay, I will say something that will make me sound horribly ungrateful and spoiled: I don’t like when people give me presents. To clarify – I’m always touched and honoured when people give me presents; that I deserve the time and attention it took for them to think of me is flattering. But the actual moment when a wrapped or bagged something is handed to me … I don’t love that. I find it awkward. Usually I’m caught unawares. I don’t like having to pretend to like something that I think is an odd gift- I have a terrible poker face. And I’m a little picky about things that take up space in my life. Also, I don’t like being the center of attention for that one moment. It seems like such a public situation for a gesture that feels oddly intimate. I think in my ideal world, presents would be quietly left at my door – a pleasant, private surprise.
My family of origin is pretty big on just giving money. Twenty dollar bills slipped into a card, a red envelope pressed into my hand at the end of the visit, even something on a larger scale like paying for me to go to college. They do give things sometimes, but more often than not, it’s money. I’m sure part of it is that money is easy to transfer, no transport or wrapping required. Not having to struggle to put it on a plane home. Also, it’s the most practical gift, right? Impersonal, perhaps? But if you think about it… it’s personal in an impersonal way. The Red Envelopes say to me, “I love you, and I know the best thing I can do for you is to give you cold hard cash because that’s what you really need.”
I’m also going to say, I love the Husband, but his presents don’t fall into the category of “favorite gifts.” They are more in the category of “gifts I love because I use them every day.” The Husband gets me gifts that are practical. Usually he replaces my electronics because I’m very slow to replace it myself. He doesn’t give romantic presents, but I make it hard for him. I don’t like flowers, I don’t wear jewelery. While I will eat most chocolate, I like picking it out for myself. I keep an Amazon wish list, but I’m always saying to him, “Don’t buy that thing on the list – I was just bookmarking it for reference later.” Very helpful of me, I know. Okay, I hate to say it… that’s the main thing… I like picking things out for myself. Part of me thinks, there are so many things I like and would pick out for myself yet am hesitating on getting because I don’t feel ready to have it in my life yet – why would I want this other thing that someone else picks out for me. Which is why the Husband and I keep gift lists. gah. I feel like I’m coming off as really petty and ungracious here. I love the thought and care that he puts into thinking about what I need and what I like, I really do. He doesn’t always get it right, but he does put a lot of thought into it.
All that to say, getting presents makes me pretty uncomfortable. I’m working on my ability to not look gift horses in the mouth and just feel fortunate and savor the giver. Over the years, there have been some gifting experiences that have really stood out. I read a Vox article this week on gift giving. The experts in the article present these three questions for choosing a thoughtful gift:
“Can I introduce someone to something they would not otherwise know about? Can I give them a nicer version of something than they would buy for themselves? Or can I make them feel seen?”
Check one of those boxes, the article says, and you’ll probably have a good present. I think the favorite present that I’ve received fall into that last category of “being seen.” When I think back on all the gifts that I’ve been given, the ones that have moved me the most are the ones where I felt like someone was really paying attention. So here are three of my most memorable gifting experiences as a recipient. There are definitely more, of course, but these three are particularly special to me. And only one of them happened on Christmas.
The Best Opening Night Present: Opening night presents are a thing at my work. Often it’s chocolate or some consumable. There have been a few standout ones for me: I had one stage manager who gave us Playmobile pirates because we were working on a show set on a British warship. And there was one boss who gave us all copies of the film Groundhog Day because about 90% of the rehearsal process was spent on one twenty minute scene and we had to do that scene over and over and over and over until the director felt like we got it right. It involved moving a lot of tables to reset for the top. One show, the director was from New York before he went home for the day off before opening, he asked us, “Do you want anything from New York?” I said, jokingly, “Those bagels from H&H are really good.” And on opening night, he came in with a huge bag of everything bagels! “The whole train smelled like everything seasoning,” he told us.
But by far my favorite opening night present came from a director, Andrew, who sadly passed away last year. I had worked with him several times in a couple different cities and on this show I was his Assistant Director. On opening night, he was passing out bottles of wine. He had impeccable taste and it was top notch wine. Wine is a pretty common opening night present. I don’t drink myself, but I always bring the wine home and have it with guests or use it for cooking. We have a shelf of opening night wine in our basement. When he got to me, however, Andrew handed me this Tupperware container. Inside was a huge chunk of Roquefort cheese. “I knew you didn’t drink,” he told me, “So I asked you husband what you liked. And he said you liked stinky cheese. So I went to the cheese shop and asked for the stinkiest cheese they could give me. And I put it in Tupperware so you could carry it home safely.”
I loved so many things about this. First that he knew that I didn’t drink so he wanted to get me something else. (I have literally gotten a card on opening night that said, “I know you don’t drink, but take this home to your husband.” It was from a dear friend of mine, but the note was not tongue in cheek at all.) And then he contacted the Husband. And I love that the Husband knew exactly what would make me happy. And the Tupperware was the best touch. I still use that blue rimmed Rubbermaid container and think of him. It was the best opening night present ever.
The Berry Bowl: I love hand thrown pottery. It’s such a functional way to incorporate art into the every day. There is a pottery group near me that always had a holiday sale in December and I loved going and looking at all the pottery, often buying gifts for family or friend there. One Christmas, my good friend Kristen and I went to the Holiday sale. She was looking for something for her parents. There was a berry bowl that I kept staring at, then I’d move on, then I’d come back and stare at it again. It was a pretty humble brown berry bowl, but something about it really attracted me. Maybe it was just the idea of having a berry bowl. I could see myself filling it with berries, rinsing them off, letting the water drain, and then snacking on the berries one by one… in the morning for breakfast, in the afternoon, while reading a book… I wanted to be the kind of person who put enough care and intention in their life that they would have a berry bowl, rather than my usual process of just dumping the berries in a regular bowl, dousing them with water, and then draining the water through my fingers, always loosing one or two berries into the dirty sink in the process. But at the same time, it seemed like one of those super specific things that … why? Why do I need a bowl just for berries in my life? Anyhow, towards the end of the afternoon, my friend said, “That berry bowl would be perfect for my parents. Can we go back and get it?” I said yes, happy that someone would get to have something as frivolous as a berry bowl.
We walked to the car, and I hugged my friend good-bye, “Merry Christmas!” I said. And she said, “Merry Christmas. This is for you.” And handed me the bag with the berry bowl in it. “You really seemed to want it,” she said.
The Hand Made Paper Flower: This one isn’t a Christmas gift either. It was the first week working on a new show and I had a meeting scheduled with the prop master the next day to go over all the props for the show. I was also having a miscarriage. The prop master came into my office to confirm our meeting. “I have to re-schedule,” I told her, “I have an appointment tomorrow.”
I must have looked upset, or something because she asked me, “Are you okay?”
And because I think people should not have to hide these things or pretend like it’s nothing, I said to her, “I’m having a d&c tomorrow because I’ve miscarried.”
And she said, “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry. Do what you have to do. We’ll look at props whenever you’re ready.”
When I came back to the office two days later, I found a bouquet of yellow paper flowers on my desk, stuck in a ginger beer bottle. No note or anything. I was too numb and exhausted to feel anything other than a flutter of gratitude for her quiet gesture. Her acknowledgement that I just went through something hard really helped me not feel so alone at work that day. Because I didn’t really want people’s words of sympathies or looks of pity or co-workers walking on eggshells around me. I just wanted life to carry on as normal even when it didn’t feel that way. Afterwards, I thanked her for the flowers, and she said, “I just wanted to do something to brighten your day.”
This prop master no longer works at the opera, but the flowers are still on my desk and I think of her whenever I see them.
What has been your favorite/most memorable/cherished gift receiving experience?
