Broken gift presents dilemma

I might not have said anything, had it been any other friend. Had it been any other gift.

As I looked at the broken pieces on my kitchen counter, I knew I was going to speak up, even if it would be uncomfortable.

I have long loved a certain souvenir trinket you find in every touristy spot in the world: the coffee mug with a name of that certain town or city.

I don’t want a T-shirt, magnet or Christmas ornament. I want a coffee mug from a place I have traveled.

“Functional junk” you might call it. I would be fine with that.

Each morning when I drink my tea, I’m transported back to Malaysia or Paris or San Diego.

I have Kuwait from when I covered war for CNN. I have Fort Lauderdale from the first trip I ever took with Husband.

You get the idea. So does my friend. This is no doubt why she picked up a mug for me when she passed through tiny Metter, Georgia.

I usually don’t like anyone to get a mug for me from a place they visit. I need to have visited the place myself. But this fit the Mug Collection Rule Book because Friend and I have actually been to Metter together a couple times for work.

We always get a giggle out of the slogan painted on the town’s welcome sign, “Everything’s Better in Metter!”

Imagine my delight to find a surprise “just because” present arrive in the mail. Friend had recently been to Metter and found something she knew I had to have.

I opened the box and layers of bubble wrap to find a “Everything’s Better in Metter!” mug.

Sadly, it was shattered into about 20 pieces.

What to do?

I could simply say, “Thank you,” and the next time she comes to visit I could serve her coffee in a mug from Yellowstone or Bilbao. That wasn’t sitting right.

So, I texted her.

I prefaced my remarks. “I’m only telling you this because one, it’s funny, two we’re those kind of friends, and three you clearly know how I love a mug from a place.”

“A Metter mug? You kidding me?” I continued in the next text. “I love it! Everything is better in Metter! Except…”

I clicked “Send” on the photo showing the shattered mug on my kitchen counter.

“I love the mug. I love the symbolism. Broken is better. Not for liquids, but for our souls. We’ve been broken, Friend. And we’re still here!”

Friend immediately picked up on where I was going with this.

“Yes, we are better,” she agreed. “And I’m getting you another mug. I promise!”

Here’s to the little things we pick up in our journey for the ones we love.

Here’s to that friend we can talk to about all the broken things: our hearts, our bodies, our faith, our mugs.

And here’s to broken you, Dear Reader. I love all your pieces just the way you are.