I Don’t Want Your Gifts

It is not that I don’t want anything from you. I just don’t want your gifts—material things—stuff.

What do I want?

Your attention—the kind of gentle but intense focus that says, “I see you,” and sometimes brings a tear.

Your time. Since it is always short and because we both know it will run out.

A quiet restaurant. A place where we can savor food and conversation without shouting to be heard 

An idea. Something I haven’t considered before. A thought to make me think. Yours.

Your effort to repair the world. It won’t be achieved otherwise, you know.

A well-chosen birthday card—something to bring laughter or tears. A phone call, too.

Good health and long life for you.

Truth. 

Openness to the darkness of life—without depression.

Openness to the beauty of life—without toxic, automatic optimism.

Good jokes or stories. There are never enough, but always more. I’ve told you a few, you know.

Touch. A hand, a hug, and sometimes a kiss.

A note, handwritten, more meaningful than the keyboarded variety.

Going out of your way.

The courage to tell me when I have done harm.

A buddy who doesn’t count—one who remembers that his last words won’t be, “Gee, I wish I had that $10 back.”

Civility.

The stillness that makes audible the rustle of trees and the tide coming in.

Stars piercing the light pollution, emerging from a pure, blue-skyed day and a cloudless, pitch-dark evening.

Allowing me to know your interior—that which matters more than your achievements, status, or beauty.

Your awareness of the lie in every mirror. Each one displays the outside when what matters is the inside and what you do with it.

For you to survive and grow from the life tests you encountered after those in school.

To hear you ask yourself, “What value do I have?” and “What value does life have?” You alone can find the answer.

That you overcome the anxiety of life and know you have done something heroic.

Making people laugh and smile.

That you don’t say, “I would have done better,” when talking about an experience you never lived through.

The teamwork to save the Western bumble bees, honey bees, and Monarch butterflies. Do you want to join the effort?

That you find love.

Your humility in the face of your opinions and beliefs. You might be wrong, you know, and that is the way we learn.

That you should have many long friendships.

Widespread generosity to support charities. Even giving $1.00. Here is one I like: Feeding America/

Your attention and kindness to the children and all their tomorrows.

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The first photo is a 3-D Gift Image by Vijay Verma. The second shows Afghan Children waiting to receive basic medical care and clothing at Camp Clark, Khowst Province, Afghanistan, on Dec. 22, 2009. It was taken by Staff Sgt. Andrew Smith. Both were sourced from Wikimedia Commons.

25 thoughts on “I Don’t Want Your Gifts

  1. Beautiful, brother!

  2. This is a wonderful list to contemplate. Thank you for posting.

  3. I am glad it pleased you, Tamara. Thanks for saying so.

  4. I agree about the gifts, as I tell my family each year, I really hope for an experience shared with them,, rather than a thing.

    • An essential point and one I should have included. Experiences are more satisfying and more memorable than things. Thanks for this wise addition, Beth!

  5. Beautiful ❤️

  6. Openness…stillness…focusing on others, gently. Intentionally. Love your list, dear Dr. Stein. Thank you so much. And I love the reminder that Feeding America is a worthy organization. Yes, yes. 💕

    • Thank you, Vicki. I do hope someone makes a prompt donation to a worthy cause they might not have otherwise considered. Children far and wide are badly nourished and starving. That is our future and their personal tragedy.

  7. So beautifully said, Dr. Stein <3
    I was especially struck by this request: "That you don’t say, “I would have done better,” when talking about an experience you never lived through." It's a challenge we face right now as a nation when we condemn the other side for choices that make no sense to our side.

    • It is true that the sides don’t understand each other except in disparaging terms, Rosaliene. For me, the talking heads on TV keep saying the same things that are more inclined to generate anger than understanding. A shame they don’t ask psychologists on their shows!

      Apart from that, I have encountered people all my life who said “Oh, I wouldn’t have done that.” Inevitably, they have no idea what they would have done and seem to protect and elevate themselves by believing they possess a heroism, moral elevation, courage, or wisdom that has never been tested.

      Thank you for promting me to say a bit more than was in the essay, Rosaliene. As always, your thoughts are most welcome.

  8. Stunningly beautiful, Dr. Stein. Thank you for sharing this.

  9. God, so very wonderful expressed! All that I wish you and myself, Gerald. May your December be blessed with peace and love, beside health and well-being. Lavinia

    • So very kind of you, Lavinia. At this point in my life, I am more concerned with the well-being of the children and the planet than my own. I have two grandchildren and, I suppose, the were part of what caused me to write what I did. Be well.

  10. What an incredible list that shows your depths, curious mind, and generous spirit. Of the many I love from this list, here are a few :

    An idea. Something I haven’t considered before. A thought to make me think. Yours.

    Your effort to repair the world. It won’t be achieved otherwise, you know.

    And your inclusion of openness and courage, honesty and attention. Maybe most of all, “Your attention and kindness to the children and all their tomorrows.”

    Beautiful, Dr. Stein!

    • Thank you, Wynne. Yes, the children. Yours, my own, and all the rest. They are the hope of the future, of course.

  11. […] Dr. Gerald Stein eloquently argues why he doesn’t want gifts and reveals that one of the charities… […]

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