Soon after my daughter-in-law Ashley joined our family we all recognized that she has a true knack for gift-giving. Though just getting to know us, her gifts to us were both thoughtful and well-fit to the recipient. I noticed it and other family members also mentioned it to me. A year or two ago she honored me with the gift of what is now one of my favorite blankets. She had taken note that I usually travel with a blanket and the one she chose was soft, cuddly, colors I love and even floral. I like to have it in my front room so that I can not only look at it, but have ready access to it – but I keep other blankets around as well so that no one else…. well, you know… I don’t like to share it.

I love blankets! As mentioned, I like to travel with a cozy blanket just to make sure it is there when I need it. I also love to give blankets.  Aside from Ashley’s gift, I don’t think I have received a blanket for myself since we were married and received our wedding quilts. So what a surprise last month when I received THREE blankets within one week!

Three blankets! I was in awe! Two came from out-of-state care packages and one was homemade and hand-delivered. Three different materials. Three different sizes. Three different colors. Three different relationships. All three suit me perfectly. I like to look at them, I like to touch them, I like to cuddle in them. Here’s the thing – prior to their arrival I had purchased another blanket for myself. It was one that I have wanted and I really like it – but it does not bring the joy that I feel from my three gifts. 

I took these three blankets to the hospital with me last time. I had been taking two of my favorites, but substituting my gifts instead changed my hospital experience. It was as though my friends (and sister), the givers, were there with me. I felt their presence and their love through their thoughtfulness. Nights can be restless in that hospital environment but this last time I would wake up and feel those blankets – the comfort they brought was tangible. (It was also kind of funny because they are various sizes of “throws” and with the temperature issues and the narrow bed I think they all took turns at my head and at my feet through the night.) I want to make note that another friend had sent me an aroma-therapy eye mask. Although we were in the room configuration which didn’t cause as many light issues, I also kept it nearby as a comfort.

This may not seem like a big deal, but during these many months of radiation, surgery and chemotherapy we have been the recipient of ever-so-many gifts. Each one has been loving and thoughtful and has brought with it comfort, support and strength. 

I have always made our own jam, but a jar of jam from a friend holds a place of honor in my fridge. Homegrown honey is both satisfying and gratifying. Meals provided are more nourishing. Cookies delivered are more sweet. After the snowstorm this week my driveway and sidewalk were cleared as if by magic – not only were we more safe and I felt a sense of pride when the walkways in front of my house stood out from the others as a monument to friendship. 

About thirty people of all ages came to our home one day last September armed with shovels, saws, trailers and tractors to help us with our neglected yard work. Even the young children kept themselves busy moving piles of wood and cleaning up fallen fruit. Moving from our home to this rental involved many trips on my own via car or truck as time permitted, but the moment I needed a little muscle I would find several strong men on my doorstep eager to be of service. At the end of the move I was left with a storage room which was overwhelming to me. My friend organized a small army of women, many of whom are several years older than I am, but also stronger than I am. I didn’t know several of them but after moving that room full of storage from one basement to another, I now count them friends.

Is it really the thought that counts? YES!! Months and months of treatments and still we are not forgotten. Each week I receive offers of help – and I tell them that our life is so simplified that I cannot think of what they could possibly DO – and yet their offer warms my soul as though a gift had been received or an act of service accomplished. Knowing we are remembered means everything to both of us. Over and over friends let us know they continue to pray for us – and I plead with them to not stop. Prayers in our behalf are making a difference we can feel daily. We continue to pray for those who pray for us. We look forward to the day when we are the givers, but we also bask in the warmth of being the receivers.

I have hesitated to write about this subject knowing that I could not list everything that has been done for us. I have hesitated to write because I didn’t want to appear to be asking for anything more. I chose to write not only to give thanks and but to encourage all of us to give of ourselves to others. We all need each other! Never suppress a generous thought!

Care packages in the mail, gifts on the porch, meals provided, service rendered – large, small and secret, muscles shared, friendships forged, all-forms-of help proffered, visits & texts, and thoughts & prayers offered. 

These are gifts that lift the soul!