In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “By Hand.“
I really wasn’t the kind of person to believe in giving handmade gifts at all. I was downright lazy when it came to being an artist.
Nah.. The truth is that I suck at craft or anything artsy as of that matter! Also, the lazy part remains.
Given the choice whether to make or buy a gift for someone, I’d pick the latter any day.
But, that does not mean I did not like getting gifts on various occasions!
In fact, I had the habit (and still do) of keeping all my gifts safe. Every now and then, I take them out of my cupboard and put them all around me on the bed. I sit and read all the little notes and messages. Inspect the stains and scribbled signatures on the old uniforms and smile. Keep wondering as to how much time and effort would have gone into making those things.
Needless to say, I feel cherished and I feed my narcissist soul with joy.
Some of the messages on notes have faded. Some papers torn by the edges. Some sheets of the little booklets have fingerprints on them from frequent handling. Some of the fabric in gifts have lost color. But they all have life in them. 🙂
Each time I pick up a handmade gift, memories come flooding back. About that person, the good times, the bad times. I recall the how, why and when it was given to me. I remember the explanations that were offered as to why my friends thought the gift was not in its best form (though it seemed perfect to me). There would always be the “Careful with this part. Its a little flimsy” reminder.
And then there would be the final comment which went something like,
“I hope you like it. If not, don’t complain to me. You better remember how much effort has gone into this. I spent practically hours/days/weeks on it to get the (part) right! You like it, right? You better.”
I know this post was supposed to be about one gift in particular. But I have so many that its difficult to pick. And its not possible to put everything here. So, I have pictures of some of the ones I like best here.
FROM SCHOOL DAYS