A Holiday Message:  for Every Holy Day…

Say you just arrived home; busy day; you sift through your mail; find one you recognize from the morass of junk; smile as you open it suspecting a nice invitation to dinner at a fabulous home of dear friends.  You slip that little Holiday cheer out and open the card… And the card says (just as you’d hoped):

You Are Invited To A Party!

[YESSSS!]

You open it, a smile curling your lips as you anticipate an awesome meal; drinks; some good times… And then you read this:

“Please Bring Your Finest Gift”

gift-box-icon

…[Your Turn here]  What would you think?

…And then: What would you do?….    “WHAT, HUH?”

 

Probably upon first read, you’d think to yourself:

“This has got to be some kind of gag: (funny. Ha ha ha!)  They invite me to their home and then tell me to bring my finest gift? …Ahh Pass, thanks!”

What if you turned the card over, and it read:

“Totally Serious” 

OK, now what?

So a few days pass. You ignore the invitation; you put it on the pile of mail with your bills, coupons, carpet cleaning offers. You go about your own busy-ness; you try and ignore it… but it keeps falling off the table, into your hands; it creeps into your 3:20 am insomniac dreamless nighttime nightmare:You Are  Invited. Please Bring Your Finest Gift”

And by 4:40 (AM)  you’re getting good and pissed (and not in the British way)!

“What audacity!” (you swear as you flip your nose into the under-stuffed pillow trying, one last time for one last position of possible comfort before dawn… No Hope)

can't sleep

OK: It’s a tad later: You get up; shower; brushing your teeth, look yourself in the mirror (smirk – in a bleary eyed kind of way).

“No finest gift on this sorry face” you sneer at your reflection.  [Said reflection merely mirrors back in agreement]

Later, at work and errands all day,  you seem to forget the blasted invitation, so caught up you are in the things that matter in the moment du jour.  But at odd times of the day, you catch yourself thinking of it again  ...and again  …and AGAIN! 

And – darned it! – you know you have to respond….sooner or later.

(OK, later.)

~ ~ ~

Four days have gone by now – a fortnight – maybe decades (who knows what a fortnight is really?)  You keep passing (circling, even) your desk. And you keep seeing that invitation right there, where you did not throw it out.  Even if  you did throw it out… Even it you did no longer actually gaze upon it, now the invitation to come to the party and bring your finest gift has got you by the (well – it’s got you good and stirred up is all I’m saying here):

“My finest Gift? What the heck do I have to bring that would suit as My Finest Gift?”

Panic starts to set in because YOU KNOW NOW (you really do) that you’re going to go to that party! For one thing, these are very close friends. For another,  you’re getting darned curious as to what your other friends will find to bring as their finest gift.

“What’s Ralphonzo possibly going to bring? And Chantilly? – ha! This will be a show!” 

{*Pardon to all of the Ralphonzo’s and Chantilly’s who may be reading this.  Your name is being used here merely in the generic sense:}

“OK: let me think! I must have something real fine here somewhere”  (Run up to closet, look in. Slam it shut. Frown. Look up; see that amazing old signed print from that famous artist. The one your grandmother’s mother passed down to you. Your one “backup retirement plan. Your one status symbol, par excellence.” Frown deepens…)

Wait a minute! They aren’t using an invitation to the table to get hold of my beloved art print are they?” (Irritation sets back in. Anger even. And a touch of belligerent self-righteousness perhaps now too, come to think of it)

Ohhhh (sardonic smile) 

Ohhhh ho ho!  (smile deepens)

I’ll show them: I know what I’ll bring as my finest gift, yesiree!   I’ll give them ‘my first born’ –that’s a good laugh… see if they can make him finish college (more evil laughter – starts to verge on the hysterical)

[In the background, your Holiday music suddenly secretly (without your controller in hand) rises in volume]

And you find yourself absently idly drumming your fingers to the tune on Pandora as you ponder again, the strange invitation from your friend:

“You are invited to our table, please bring your finest gift” Dum-dee-Dum-Dummmmm (tapping fingers with the beat)

…”Our Finest Gifts we bring, Dum-Dum-dee-Dum-Dummmm…..Dum-dee-Dum-Dum, Dum-dee-Dum-Dummm (Tap-a-Tap-Tappppp…. You get the idea here; Right?)

And – BAM! Reverie busted!

“My first born …..newborn ….gift…my gift” 

(Oh dear!)

So now. It’s the night of the party.

You ARE Going, you know!

 

You have accepted the invitation. 

What do you bring to the table?….

 

Ask the Little Drummer Boy; He Knows!….

 

SEE Ronda’s News and Retreat Dates for Next Year, HERE…

4 Responses to Being Your Gift

  1. Susan McCabe says:

    Thanks Rondi. May the gift you share of you be returned 100fold.

  2. Edwin heartfulSoul says:

    Terrific ad !
    And I like working with Ronda.

    Major consideration: Limited transportation.

  3. Stephanie says:

    I must have read this 4-5x’s b4 actually finishing it cuz I knew rhetoric answer rt away and couldn’t bring myself to finish. Finally did & got a surprise of video ronda at the end. Glad I finished it!

Leave a Reply