With each passing year, my sense of gratitude seems to grow a bit more around the holidays. My family may be small, and we may not always be able to be together on the holidays, but we always manage to send our love along with a few gifts.
Last year, we exchanged handmade gifts. My mom knit me a beautiful scarf, and my dad hand-crafted me a possibles bag – his first attempt at leather work. Those gifts weren’t just a scarf and a leather bag; they were reflections of my parents. In a way, what they shared was an expression of their creativity. They shared their imagination.
And this year, although we didn’t plan another round of handmade gifts, my mom made me a Christmas tree ornament (a chicken!) and a set of potholders, and my dad made me a hand-forged trivet.
It was totally unexpected, and immediately brought tears to my eyes.
I’ve been blessed to have grown up with two creative parents who always seem to be learning new crafts and skills, and I’m certain this is where my insatiable sense of curiosity comes from.
But the amount of thought, time and energy that goes into making homemade gifts is the definition of love itself. To me it says, “I made time for you, and I want you to have part of my heart.”
When have you exchanged handmade gifts?