We weren’t milk drinkers, so when it came to setting a treat for Santa, my mom simply put out a plate of Oreo cookies. “Won’t he be thirsty,” I asked, eating the cream out of the middle of one. “You’re right,” she said and went to fridge and grabbed a 16 ounce glass bottle of Tab.
I suppose our heroes are always formed from within. We offer love and respect in the best way we can. And when we get it right, it’s amazing. But it’s not a guarantee that it will work for everyone. People are so different. And complicated. And the gifts we have to give, might not hit the spot. What you bring today, even with the best intentions, may be as well received as Tab and Oreos. But it’s not a reason to quit. Love, with all of its faults and misgivings, is malleable (if we allow it). And if we can see the love in the trying, in the mere setting out of gifts, as crazy as some of them may seem, then I think we’ll be OK.
My friends brought with them a bag of Jelly Beans this autumn. We don’t have them in France, so it was something special. Am I a Jelly Bean lover because of my mother?Probably. The reds were her favorite. And mine too.
Still a believer, I begin decorating for Christmas. But there’s really only one visit I’m longing for. I place the tiny bowl of red Jelly Beans in front of her picture. She knew how to love me. She’s the reason I keep on offering to everyone else.
