Time and love make perfect gift
WOW, there are only 12 more shopping days to Christmas, including today!
Baby boomers would well remember such advertising, urging us to get in quick. ’Twas a bygone era where retailers were closed on Sundays, so such a calculation was actually helpful for harried, lastminute Christmas shoppers.
Gift giving – and the spirit behind it – is now fundamental to Christmas. This important ritual for many families and groups has origins from an early Roman era, when gifts were often exchanged around the Winter Solstice.
This tradition became tied to the story of the Biblical
Magi offering gifts to the infant Jesus, who is the fundamental reason for this season.
This was further enhanced by the legend of St Nicholas, the generous bringer of gifts to the poor – perhaps the world’s first philanthropist.
We can all probably recall significant Christmas gifts we have received. Gift exchanging around our family tree was a mostly chaotic affair, at least that’s how it looked as the wrappings piled up!
We would take turns handing our gifts to each other. The climax was always Dad’s gift to Mum, always carefully thought out with Dad’s trademark romantic touch, never lost in their 70 years of marriage.
Surely I received many wellchosen gifts over the years but, with apologies to my siblings, I am struggling to remember too many … except for one.
It was the Christmas after I turned 17. For my September 30 birthday that year, I received a spanking new set of L plates.
To a callow teenager, such were gold! Back then, that was essentially all one needed to get on the road – no online test, no learners’ licence, no school-based driving programs, no 120 hours.
The only criteria was that you had reached 17 years and that you could reach the pedals! So I had my plates but cajoling my parents into taking me out in the Hillman
Super Minx wagon – with four on the floor – was the next challenge.
Especially in the pre-Christmas busy-ness of a large family, I could rarely persuade them to let me into the right-hand seat.
So Christmas 1972 arrived with my driving skills still largely embryonic. And as for coordinating that pesky clutch while wrangling the gear stick, well, the least said the better, except I had no idea how that gearbox survived.
Either synchromesh had not been invented yet or Hillmans did not have it!
So, sitting around the tree that year, contemplating my lack of driving prowess, I was handed a plain white envelope by my brother Barry. Intrigued, I opened it, rather sceptically I might add.
Yet it contained what was to become perhaps my most memorable gift.
In amazingly clear handwriting (for him), a voucher inside read:
“This Voucher entitles the Bearer to Six One-Hour Lessons at the Barry Fagg School of Motoring!”
Blown away! My brother was living at university at the time, so not home often during the year. Yet, here he was offering his pesky younger brother driving lessons in his prized Renault 10. Amazing!
Despite wondering how we would survive in a car together for an hour without seriously maiming each other, this was the best gift this 17 year-old could wish for.
Mother Teresa is quoted to say, “It is not how much we give but how much love we put into the giving”.
While at the time, I may not have realised the love inherent in my brother’s gift, I certainly see it now. Not only was he entrusting his beloved Renault to my inexperienced hands, he was also gifting his time. Of all the gifts one can give to one another, surely time mixed with love is among the most potent.
May you have a very good Christmas, dear reader, gifting and sharing plenty of time with those you love – even if it is driving lessons!
I HAD MY PLATES BUT CAJOLING MY PARENTS INTO TAKING ME OUT IN THE HILLMAN SUPER MINX WAGON — WITH FOUR ON THE FLOOR — WAS THE NEXT CHALLENGE. ESPECIALLY IN THE PRE-CHRISTMAS BUSY-NESS OF A LARGE FAMILY.