My husband is a fabulous gift-giver. This is one of my favorite things about him. It's also quite intimidating, when it comes to birthdays and anniversaries and Christmas and such. I always try to have a great idea, because I know that whatever he gets me is going to knock my socks off. From handwritten notes to flowers to the year that he "bought" a penguin (sponsored one in my name at the zoo--I absolutely LOVE penguins) to this year's surprise trip to FLORIDA (yes, a COMPLETE surprise--I didn't know about it until we pulled into the airport!), he amazes me over and over. But the best part is never the actual gift, no matter how great it is. The BEST part is always the look on his face. He is every bit as excited as I am, maybe more. He loves to give gifts.
And now... now, he has passed that along to one of our children.
Every day when the kids get off the bus, Lamb comes in first. We catch up a little, go over the papers in her backpack, get started on the snack... and then Monkey comes in. Always a few minutes behind. And always, ALWAYS bearing a gift. Sometimes it is a dandelion, sometimes a clover, sometimes a leaf, often it is a rock. But every single time, it is given with a look of complete and utter love. THAT is the gift.
My heart has been stolen, not by this rock, but by the hand holding it.