Wrapping gifts is my slow living metaphor this season.

I will not be hurried.

I appreciate every crease of the paper. Every fluff of tissue. Every knot in the twine.

You deserve my best effort.

Believe me when I tell you I am loving deeply with every slide of the scissors and yank of tape. Smooth. Tuck. Fold. Trim when necessary. Match the stripes.

Never one for flashy, the wraps have been simple – my pace, deliberate.

George Winston on the piano. Candles. Some sparkle from the tree and a cup of tea.

Mood wrapping.

I tie the soft, white, cotton string or twist the red and white baker’s twine round and round to bundle my love, all my very best intentions and maybe a few regrets.

But my hands reach, outstretched to you – – a big box full of hope. And my heart.

Christmas comes tomorrow.

You … you are my gift, all year.




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