Gifts

Sometimes the word offering is used as anything offered as a gift. It is normally used to mean something offered in worship or devotion, as to a deity; an oblation or sacrifice. An offering is a collection of donations during worship. An offering can mean a religious sacrifice of plant or food that one does not partake of. You give up enjoying the plant, food or money in order to gain favor with the clergy or the gods. The one item to think about is that this is really just a form of mysticism.

Mysticism - meaning the beliefs, ideas, or mode of thought comes from the Greeks as a means to “initiate or initiation” such beliefs. The gift of the mystic or mysticism is that it leads us to believe that reality and the unknown is really one thing. This is essentially a double edged gift, because it lets people feel that they have a control over both what they can see and what they can not see.

Recently, I heard an explanation for why many people get nervous about writing exams or taking tests. The reason many people get nervous about this, as it was explained, is that people have a problem about making choices and predicting outcomes. Human beings are not very good at predicting outcomes. If they were good at predicting outcomes, Casinos would cease to exist. It is difficult to predict the outcome of a test or exam unless you know the questions and their answers beforehand. As this is seldom the case, people get nervous about writing tests.

When human beings have to make a choice, and there are only 3 things to choose from they are normally pretty good at deciding which of the three items will have the best outcome. By that I mean which of the three items will give the best benefit or satisfaction to the person making the decision. If there are more than 3 items to choose from it gets a little harder to be certain which one will give the best satisfaction. It can be over-whelming to the point that the person making the decision cannot make up their mind and will defer the decision until some future time. Think of this when you are at a specialty coffee shop where they have 15-20 different kinds of coffee, espressos and lattes.
You could also feel the same way when looking for a gift or offering a gift to that special person. The optimum outcome is to achieve an increase in esteem in the recipient’s eyes. This will have the added effect of increasing your own feelings of esteem or self worth. Your subconscious mind may see an aspect or quality of something, which will make it an appealing gift for the recipient. Your conscious mind may not be able to see this quality and you will only get a subconscious get a feeling that this would be an appropriate gift.

So you may want to listen to those feelings when considering the purchase of a gift for that special someone.

When someone does you a good turn in life the most obvious reaction is to give them something back in return, to show that this good deed has been appreciated. Being a working parent there are times that favors are called in to save children from being abandoned at the schoolyard entrance due to some unforeseen circumstance in the daily working schedule, or a myriad of other little dramas. A small gift in this circumstance will go a long way to show your appreciation, for a kind deed.

My husband and I worked in the vineyard industry for many years, one of the best things about working for a company that produces alcoholic beverages is that the workers are paid a bonus each month of wine. This was great for the first few months but after a while the wine started piling up in our spare room as neither my husband or I were drinkers.

Things got even worse as we were new to the town we were living in and didn’t know many people, only a few school moms, who were great ladies and always willing to help out. Our family who was over 500 miles away weren’t interested in wine either. One day I had a bright idea to get rid of the wine, promote the vineyard we worked for and show our appreciation to people who were generous enough to help us out in times of need.

Anyone who did a good turn towards us was given a bottle of wine from our stockpile, with a little bow and small thank you note attached. It was amazing how much people appreciated our little gifts and how much more willing they were to offer assistance when we were in need. Also we felt better as we were giving something back in return and didn’t feel as though we were taking advantage of anyone’s good nature.

A gift can come in many forms, and can be an ideal way to show appreciation for a good turn. When you are generous toward your friends and acquaintances they are generous toward you in return, and will help you along in life and think of you even when you are not asking for something. This is a show of friendship and the true spirit of human nature.

From time to time I still catch up with those friends and bring along a bottle of wine and a cheerful smile for no reason at all. We all managed to benefit from those bottles of wine in some way or another, and they provided a great foundation to form lasting relationships with friends. Good people, who expect nothing in return for their kind deeds, appreciate it when their efforts have been acknowledged.

The tone in her voice was dismal. I was visiting a friend halfway across the country and my mother desperately wanted to shield me from the truth.

“She’s gone,” my mother uttered.

At first, it wasn’t clear to me who the “she” in my mother’s statement was until the numbing period of silence between us lingered and I burst into tears. No goodbyes, no last hugs, no last pat on the head. My precious pup, Scraps had been put to sleep and I was not there to comfort her. A mixture of emotions settled in, ranging from anger to guilt.

I have always had a dog in my life. Scraps was a stray who came to us during a harsh Upstate New York snowstorm. They say you can put a leash on a lost dog and they will sometimes lead you back to their home. In near-blizzard weather, my father and I did just that with Scraps, but instead, she led us right back to our own house. From then on, it was quite clear she was meant to become a part of our family. The dog had a great intuitive spirit. If I were sad, sitting on the stairs with my head between my legs, she would have none of that, plowing her face from underneath my legs to greet me on the other side.

After Scraps, I didn’t think I could find another dog that could fill the void. The following year, my boyfriend turned my gears a bit. He told me he would get me any dog I desired. “Just go out there and find one,” he said. I’ve always had a fondness for abandoned or unwanted dogs, so I scoured the local animal shelters looking for a worthy companion. I came home empty-handed.

Then, my father agreed to take me to my last option, a Humane Society about an hour outside of town. The drive was unbearable; I couldn’t wait. The shelter selection was small and I almost gave up hope.

“Why don’t you take a look at one of these puppies,” my father offered.

I had never owned a puppy before and wasn’t too interested, but I still squatted by the cage to have a look. Six little ones scurried about, dancing around a huge mountain of chow. One lone puppy stood up and latched his paws onto the cage in front of me. Our eyes met and I felt a real connection. It was like one of those moments when two people see each other from across a crowd and time momentarily pauses. He stood undaunted for minutes while his playful littermates raced back and forth. No whining, no tail wagging, no jumping or yelping, he just stayed there with undivided attention. His stare was mesmerizing.

“I want this one,” I exclaimed.

I cradled the pup in my arms. He felt softer than cotton, but smelled like an outhouse. He was perfect. Debating on what to name him, I took my father’s suggestion and called him “Oz.” It suited him. This jet-black ball of fur was quite magical to me. The moment he came home, my boyfriend asked me how I selected my gift. I had to correct him.

“No hun,” I replied. “This gift definitely chose me.”

Whenever I enter the backyard of my parent’s house, I still see his radiant smile surrounded by the fragrance of a calm autumn day. His image will always appear perched high above us all, on a tree branch set in the shadows of crabapples and sun-dried leaves. This was the last time I saw Uncle Ron, who dropped off his 20-year-old, lumbering monster of a dog, Jeremiah for my family to watch while he went in for a “simple procedure.” At that time, I was slowly approaching my pre-teen years and did not fully understand the severity of this hospital visit.

If you skim through the photo album of my mind, you will find many snapshots of my Uncle Ron, who was not my biological uncle, but my father’s best friend. As a young child, my father exposed me to a wide-range of life experiences and Uncle Ron was right there with us. Straddled on top of my father’s shoulders, I visited some of his favorite hangouts, meeting up with my Uncle Ron. While they listened to music and drank beer, I nursed a Cherry Coke and absorbed my surroundings like an eager sponge. When my father and I got stuck at the top of a ferris wheel, Uncle Ron was at the bottom grinning from ear to ear. When he passed away, it was the first time I ever saw my father shed a tear. I remember him as adventurous and humorous with a smile that lit up the room. It is this smile that I imagine emerging from the trees when I travel into the thick of the backyard, embracing the warmth of the sun.

Uncle Ron showered me with gifts that cultivated my imagination and opened my mind to new experiences. It was he, who fostered my interest in art, painting and drawing. One Christmas, I remember opening a nicely sized rectangular box, dressed in tissue paper. The light scent of what reminded me of cedar floated from the package, as I lifted a how-to-draw book. Various drawing pencils and charcoal sticks accompanied the book, as well as an acrylic paint-by-numbers set. I cherished this gift because it took me beyond sketching with pencils. It brought to life a whole new world of artistic expression.

Tucked under the tissue paper, there were a few plastic baggies containing tiny treasures that furthered my imagination. He had included a subscription to some sort of gem collecting service. Throughout the years, I received Tiger’s Eye, Jade and a diamond ring. I used to think the small pieces of precious and semi-precious minerals were priceless, hailing from important worldwide archeological digs.

Uncle Ron further sparked my interest regarding Africa, Asia, Europe and other places across the globe. For several years, he sent me a subscription to National Geographic. The colorful photos of jaguars, tropical fish and desert landscapes encouraged pleasant dreams, as well as influenced my art and writing. I am saddened that my uncle will never see how influential his gifts were to me. They fed my hunger for knowledge and provided me with the direction my young mind needed, as I navigated through the choppy waters of creativity.