Gifts Gifts Gifts!

The holidays were long gone and now the Chinese New Year is almost over. But I still didn't get a chance to put away our tree and the assorted shiny ornaments. Since the tree is still standing there, I kept the lights plugged in every evening. I guess to a certain point, enough blinking is enough. My son has already asked me twice with a puzzled face, " Is Christmas coming again, Mommy?"

Okay, call me lazy. But it's not exactly an easy job. Plus I'm still receovering from all the gift sorting and unwrapping. After the "oohs!" and "aahs!" and "???", thinking about what to re-gift and where to store the rest took most of my energy already. (Re-gifting? Please, let's be honest here. Who doesn't do it? I even have a re-gifting storage box in my garage.)

Don't get me wrong. I fully enjoyed the holiday gatherings and gift exchange. Cooking, eating, and hanging out with people are some my favorite things to do. And from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate the thoughts and wishes embedded in the gifts that everyone had chosen for us. But, there is always something of no use. Or I simply can't bring myself to use. A brass candle holder with three white candles for a Chinese family? A box of soap shaped as frosted cupcakes for two little children? I mean, I'd love to have some romantic moments with my big guy and see my kids bathed clean. However, it's rather difficult not to think of a tomb, or tell my little ones these cupcakes are for cleaning.

Back in 2005, it was my first year teaching in the U.S. public school as an kindergarten teacher. My school is in a small prestigious community in the south bay area with over 98% caucasian population. The school is located right by the cliff, with the grand view of the Pacific ocean, embraced by the sea breeze and the sound of contant crashing waves.  And I, the new young Asian teacher, who speaks English with a Mandarin accent, was surrounded by experienced teachers and parents worth millions of dollars. When it was around the holiday time, my colleagues began to receive gift cards from Nordstrom and the little blue box from Tiffany. I couldn't recall what I had as tokens of appreciation from parents that year. However, I remember the first stack of cards my students made for me.

30 cards, each with a Chirstmas trees drawn in crayon red and green, decorated with glued glitter dots, 29 "Merry Christmas to Ms. Hsieh!" written by little hands. Kento, the 5 years old long hair boy, who just moved from Tokyo to U.S. for three months at the time, wrote me this message: "Happy Christmas!  I like you in America."

Ever since then, I have taught 6 more years at different grade levels, received many student-made cards and generous gift cards. Somehow, Kento's tree and words stayed with me. The genuin wish and what I meant in a young heart, it is something of no apparent use. But it is definitely something I will never regift.