My older daughter celebrated her birthday last week. I can go on about how she has enriched my life and all that has given me since her arrival (in this giving season) three years ago, but my favorite gifts from her are new words. Her words. I'm not talking about her learning our language, but more so the creation and sharing of her own unique vocabulary.
Much of this was just silly baby babble through the years that my wife and I have kept alive. Our daughter calling blueberries booboos, etc . At three, she can now say oatmeal quite clearly, but we'll all still frequently call it oompalah, as was her habit - and though I believe she knows the word toothpaste, she'll still ask where the mintyminty is. My favorite of all: she calls bare or shoeless feet beadie feeties. I really don't know how to spell most of these.
But the one the house has adopted, the most used word of all, is perhaps the most ordinary. Stuffers. While seemingly just a superfluous extension of stuff, I soon embraced her particular nomenclature. You see, stuffers is not the same as stuff. While stuff accumulates, those things (what we adults might call crap) are category C, not even on her radar. Stuffers is category B. In her mind's landscape but occupying no part of her heart. It’s things in her life that have collected but they have no word, no assigned name, no assigned value, no true purpose. Stuffers occupy space, but do not spark joy.
I know it may sound hokey as hell, but somehow this year it really hit me. The gift of words. The joy, the power. The pandemic has limited us so much. Now every phone call, every note, every text means that much more. And I think of the words we share each week with you. And I'm thinking this morning of all of your words that you've shared with us these past months, words of concern and support at our door, messages of gratitude and encouragement on the phone, a warm addendum accompanying online request orders...
Beyond your words, this holiday season we couldn’t ask for anything more than what you all have given us. Another birthday. Our lights are on and there's a roof over head and our doors are open. You are a part of our heart. We're here for you and because of you, open today and everyday until Christmas day, happily writing and relaying your kinds words onto holiday cards and special bottles - or spoken to the surprised and delighted faces who receive them.
Keep spreading the joy. Keep sharing light. Keep the good words alive.
Everything else is just stuffers.
Happy Holidays,
Daniel
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