It didn’t matter what it was ~ jewelry, a book, a teddy bear, or a simple little dish that was picked up at the flea market. This price tag, whether high or low, just didn’t matter.
It was the manner in how the gift box was presented that made the difference. Mom cared. Regardless of its content, the box was always presented with detail. I didn’t always understand why, but I do now.
The tissue paper that lined the box, protecting and hiding its content, was always handled so delicately – each piece folded back and doubled over with care.
The wrapping paper that was used on the outside… always the perfect choice for the person receiving the gift.
The bow ~ oh, the bows were a work of art; the additional time that was spent fluffing and cutting the ribbon.
You see, it wasn’t always about the object that was hiding within, that I focused on. It was the great amount of time and thought that went into the preparation of the box, that to me was a gift in itself.
The presentation was not about perfection; it was about life.
She truly handled it with love and care ~