A Wallflower’s Delight

“Gifting is your friend’s love language,” I said as my husband returned with yet another gift given out of the blue.

“That’s yours too,” he concluded.

“No, I’m more words and acts of service,” I said.

“Then what are these?” he gestured to the trove of tiny toys and trinkets I had just bought for my colleagues.

I love toys. I love buying them.

Above all, I love gifting them.

I love placing a small something in someone’s palm and watching their reaction – be it joining in my joy or bemusing at my bedazzlement – I’ll always get smiling faces in return.

That pleases me very much.

Everyone loves receiving gifts. It shows they’ve been thought of, and that they matter.

Everyone deserves presents not just on special occasions, but simply for being present.

At work, I was a wallflower.

I liked blending into the background, saying as little as possible, and agreeing with all that everyone wanted to do. I contributed to the laughter and applause as much as I did to the moments of silence and reflection.

With my colleagues, I was a quiet gifter.

I’ve forgotten when it began, but every six months, I shopped for toys for my colleagues to mark the start of a financial year and a calendar year.

I picked a time when no one was around – lunchtime is perfect since I don’t eat lunch – and placed the toy on each person’s desk.

Then I waited.

Sometimes, they didn’t notice. Most often, they saw and wondered aloud about who the gifter was. Usually, they figured out it was me.

Even if they didn’t, that’s ok – I didn’t gift with expectations.

I gift because I enjoy gifting.

I loved seeing our desks dressed up in tiny toys and trinkets.

But now, to empty desks, I return.