Gifts

It is now 10:00 p.m., and as Mother's Day 2010 comes to a close, I am thinking about gifts. Some gifts are beautiful and expensive; others are equally beautiful but cost nothing. Some gifts are crafted by tireless hands; others are purchased in fancy stores, and still others are carefully created by tiny fingers in kindergarten classrooms all over the world. Gifts: those things we give and receive in the spirit of grace, generosity, and love.

I have to admit, though, there have been times when I have not felt so graceful, generous, or loving, even on an occasion as special as Mother's Day. It's time to come clean, my friends. Let me explain. In our church it is traditional for the men (the Elders' Quorum, the Bishopric, the High Priests' Group, or some combination of those) to have gifts ready for all the adult women in the ward on Mother's Day. After the closing prayer in Sacrament Meeting, the women are asked to stand, and the young men (boys 12 - 17) go out into the foyer, bring in the gifts, and pass them out to all the sisters. And what do you think those gifts usually are? Candy bars or home-made cookies like we give the men on Father's Day? No! Never! It's always a little plant in a tiny plastic not-so-sturdy container. Every year.

So every year we're forced to carry these plants through our next two meetings, trying to keep the dirt from spilling out as we conduct or teach or lead or sing or whatever we happen to do. If we decide to set our plant down on the floor, you can be absolutely certain that some adorable baby (we keep our children with us in meetings until they are 18 months old) will crawl over and spill it, or worse, eat it! If that doesn't happen, and we manage to get the plant safely into our car, without question, it will spill on the drive home, forcing us to vacuum up dirt on the Sabbath.

Now I realize that I sound horribly ungrateful and unappreciative here, but why can't they give us food like we give them? Don't they understand how much easier that would be? And how much more satisfying? Don't they know how hungry we get during the three-hour block? I'm sure on other days, we often go three hours without food, but seriously, church makes people positively ravenous. How lovely to have a nice candy bar or bag of cookies to tide us over on Mother's Day. But no, it's always those little plants.

Until today.

Today, I had to repent of all my negative thoughts directed toward my brethren and friends. Today, they did not give us plants. No, they did not give us candy or cookies either. They gave us something even better, something that lasts. Today, they gave us music. I nearly jumped out of my pew with joy (and shock!) as the dashing young men entered the chapel carrying stacks of CDs to hand out to the sisters, a collection of hymns both well-known and not so well-known. I haven't had the chance to listen to mine yet, but I can't wait to do so first thing tomorrow. What a perfect gift!

I received some other "perfect" gifts today as well. Some were indirect, that is they were delegated by one sibling down to the next. Isaiah texted Eli last evening to be sure Eli had "done something" about Mother's Day. Eli reassured Isaiah: "Yes, I baked her a cake and bought her two kinds of chocolates and a card." And so he did. Thank you, Eli. Some of my perfect gifts were as simple as a phone call or text message from my three "away" children. Another was even simpler, but equally perfect: a giant hug from Seth.

Gifts. I am thankful today for my many gifts, most especially for my five funny, smart, incredible, unique kids. And I'm thankful too that I didn't get a plant at church.