This week I received my second birthday gift in the mail. How exciting that is! My birthday isn’t till February 20th (I’ll be 36), but the post, of course, doesn’t know that, and better to mail something ahead of time than too late. (I sent a special edition to my sister in England for her birthday [January 20th] and it still hasn’t arrived.)
My family and close friends know that they can’t go wrong with giving me books, even if it’s for every holiday and my birthday. So one of my sisters sent me Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert, which has been on my wish list since I read it: I kept giving it to people and never bought it for myself after I gave away my own copy because I felt it would somehow come back to me. Well, it did; it came unexpectedly in the post with a lovely card. I was ecstatic! I love it when people know me so well.
The second gift was also a book, beautifully wrapped in quality paper with a large classic print and encircled with twine. It too had an artful card that accompanied it. Both my sister and my friend are art lovers and they appreciate paper and books as much as I do. The book was Gunnar’s Daughter, by Sigrid Undset, author of the 1928 Nobel Prize Winner Kristin Lavransdatter (which is a fantastic substantial saga, one to hunker down in the winter months with, preferably with Cloudberry tea and on a sheepskin).
I think there’s nothing more rewarding, more satisfying, than receiving a gift that reflects a person’s true understanding of you. If books and paper and art are your thing, may you be forever blessed in the receiving of them, as I am.