Give Yourself Away


It seems like most of our holidays have been converted into consumer events, and in that department no holiday holds a candle to Christmas.
Economic forecasters constantly remind us that the nation's fiscal survival depends on Christmas shoppers. Our future is read in the tea leaves of Yuletide spending and it is very nearly patriotic duty to buy a lot of useless junk to keep the ball rolling.
Thanksgiving is the kick-off date for the annual binge, and the day after Thanksgiving is always the biggest single cash-register clattering sales day of the year.
Even if most of us know that Americans use far more than our share of the world's resources, and the American lifestyle is a substantial cause of the ecological crunch facing the planet, we still go out and buy. We seem like a nation of frantic Neros fiddling while our home burns with holes in the ozone and global warming. For those of you who think there ought to be a better way to celebrate the winter solstice, I have a few suggestions.
The best presents involve giving yourself, not stuff. Memories last forever, unlike perfume, sweaters, jewelry, knick-knacks, gizmos and baubles. My partner Susan took her mid-Western paraplegic Aunt Emma to New York City and wheeled her all over town. The Empire State and World Trade buildings, Times Square, the works. Aunt Emma joyfully remembered that adventure for the rest of her life.
In a similar spirit, my friend Larry took his daughter cross-country skiing he didn't give her tickets or equipment or ski togs, but three days spent together sliding across the snow on borrowed skis.
A talkative, perhaps over-talkative, dear friend named Jeanne gave her partner silence a box of little coupons good for five minutes, or half an hour or a whole day of silence. And Susan once gave me a box of slack I guess I'd said, "Give me a little slack," once too often. I'm saving those coupons for some time when I really need it.
Time is free but it seems expensive, doesn't it? I think that's why giving your time to someone can be such a special gift. Take a computer nerd to an art gallery and your artist friend on a factory tour. Take a plant worker to the ballet or teach a ballerina to access the Internet. Drag a rocker to the symphony and an opera buff to a drumming. Has your grandma ever played putt-putt golf? Make it something out of the ordinary and the memory will shine brighter than a diamond.
Don't give a friend coupons for meals at a restaurant, cook something complicated or strange or goofy and take them for a picnic beside a creek. Bake a loaf of bread. Give your best buddy one homemade loaf a month for a year.
The public library is one of the most magical places on earth. Take someone child or adult to the library for the first time and you have given that person an unending treasure. Do it twice a month for a year.
Read aloud to kids or to each other. Share a book of fairy tales with your spouse or family, once a week all winter. Spend a morning sketching or painting with watercolors, even if you've never tried it. Sketch each other, do it every Christmas Eve.
If you feel the need to give something to be opened Christmas morning, think about things in your life that have been useful for at least five years, things that don't quickly wear out or get set aside. A dictionary, an atlas or field guides for birds, flowers, trees and so on, will last a lifetime.
Tools are excellent. Surprisingly few people own a quality hammer or Philips head screwdriver. A single ten-dollar screwdriver will still be handy years after a ten-dollar set of ten screwdrivers have twisted into uselessnes.
The same is true of a decent paring knife, adjustable wrench or pair of scissors. A flat bar is indispensible once you've owned one, and you are better off with more than one.
I have a knife sharpener that looks like a miniature yo-yo that has been superb for a decade. For about two bucks you can make anyone's kitchen work better. Someone will be thanking you every time a tomato needs to be sliced.
Time spent shopping is never refunded. It's gone. So on Friday after Thanksgiving, why not stay home with friends or family? Rake leaves into a pile and dive in, finger paint, make caramel apples or go for a walk with someone you love.
Make memories instead of credit card bills. It's a holiday weekend so celebrate!
Happy Thanksgiving.

C.L. Bothwell, III, lives in Black Mountain, N.C.

© Copyright by POINT, 1995
Last modified 11/12/95