|Before Christmas a few years ago, I got a concerned call from my mother. ďYou didnít send me a nativity set by any
chance, did you? One came in the mail. It didnít have any card with it so I donít know who sent it. Itís white Lenox china,
exactly what Iíve been wanting for ages. Who could know that? I have to thank whoever sent it. I just canít think who could
it be. Do you have any idea? I know it didnít come from your sisters or my sisters. Iím so embarrassed. You should see
the set; itís beautiful.Ē|
A week later a sheepish mother called again. She said she had discovered who had sent the perfect gift. She hesitated and
then blurted that she had ordered the set for herself from a catalog two months ago and didnít remember until the invoice
arrived. No wonder it was just what she wanted. We laughed ourselves silly.
My mother made a mistakeÖor did she? She got her gift by giving it to herself. Thatís a neat idea. Hmm, if I copied her,
I wonder what I would give to me. I can almost hear me say, ďThank you. This is just what I wanted. How did you know?Ē
And you? What would you give to you?