The Missing Christmas Box

I think that as one grows older, the boxes intended for us under the tree either gets smaller or is all together missing.

Unlike those days when we measure Christmas joy through the quantity of boxes intended for us under the tree, as one mellows with age, Christmas joy is now seen through how much we have been hugged on Boxing Day.

Honestly, I was actually hoping for some biking related gifts last Christmas. Everyone in this family knows that would truly cheer me up.

But except for a soccer shirt that can double-up as a biking jersey, I got no biking related stuff. No cash either to purchase biking related stuff.

Instead I got something truly more meaningful: I got hugged. A lot.

Hugs can not be boxed. They are much too big for any box to hold.

Hugs can not be wrapped. No wrapping paper can truly be colorful enough.

Hugs can not be bought. It is simply too precious to be limited by price and to be carried by most high-end stores.

And it needs no instruction on use, has no expiry date, no sizes, no color. All it comes with is a virtual warranty card that assures the recipient of the love that endures.

This Christmas I got more than a box or a wish can hold: the love of my family through a hug.


Photo credit: syd delicious@flickr