I’m waiting for clothes to come out of the dryer before going to bed. Earlier in the evening though, also waiting for clothes to dry, I was in the basement wrapping Christmas presents. I wasn’t wrapping anything that I needed to keep a secret from anyone in the household; these gifts were for all the younger set in the VanKampen family–my parents, siblings, and their families–with whom we will celebrate this weekend. Still I wrapped in the basement because the wrapping supplies are kept there and it was easier to go to the paper and ribbons and tags than to haul it all upstairs and back down again.
There was a day that the press of pre-holiday busyness never allowed for gift wrapping until the late hours after the kids had gone to bed on the night before we were to leave for our week in Michigan with extended family–or the night before we were to celebrate our own immediate family Christmas. The task was always demanded right in the press of much else to do and, even though dear Michael stayed up late too so we could work as a team–he wraps, very neatly I might add, and I do the ribbons and bows–it was not so much fun by the time the last piece of tape was secured, the last bow knot was tied, and the last ribbon strand was curled. Exhaustion had always set in by that time.
But now, life is a little less hectic at the holidays, and I can usually get gift wrapping done at a more leisurely pace. I like this, because it gives me time to ponder the gift and the recipient. Tonight as I wrapped, I thought of the children who will open these presents. I thought of how dear, how sweet, how funny–how unique each one is. Every time I wrap gifts in that manner, I do a better job than I would otherwise. It sets me thinking about what little touch of whimsy on the package might make that child laugh–or at least smile. I’m reminded of the very particular child who will care if only half of Santa’s face is on the front of the package and the other half is wrapped around the back–and I reposition the paper.
I started to go off into some life lesson, to draw some application of this process to everyday life. But I think I’ll stop here…for two reasons: the dryer will buzz soon and I need to clean up my wrapping “workshop” before then and, mainly, if I stop it will feel like I continue to savor the pleasure of my little gift wrapping ritual. And a simple pleasure at what can sometimes feel like a complicated time of year is a fine thing indeed.
