Christmas Gift That Keeps on Gifting (PowerHouseCreatives Contest)

I am a gift!

I was not originally meant to be a gift; at first I was intended as a useful kitchen tool and I was excited about helping bake my first pie and taste my first cake. I was first bought by a happy, older couple who were so excited that they had found the perfect gift: me! They took me home and wrapped me up in a bright red package. I could already imagine being opened and seeing children at Christmastime, and then singing and dancing and laughing around the kitchen while we whipped up all sorts of sweet goodies together.

Excitement built up all Christmas night. Christmas morning I could hear children waking and become more and more excited as the morning grew until it was finally time to open presents! I could hear laughter and cheering and happiness as wrapping paper was shredded and tossed to the side in glee, toys were hugged, and electronic ray guns bee-boooped. I was thrilled when I finally felt my own package lifted and handed over!

I was opened by a young couple, only recently married. They saw me and they smiled; they thanked the gifter with a warm hug, and they put me with their other packages, all of which looked as if they were given for a young couple moving in to their own place.

When we got home I was surprised to discover that I was not the only of my kind in the kitchen. I was one of two, the other of which was already opened! It sat there, mostly unused, on the kitchen counter top. There were no children. There was no baking. This was a sad kitchen! And I sat there, unopened, until next Christmas. This young couple began to decorate, and they began to bake, and I once again became excited. Perhaps there would be no children singing and laughing and tasting, but there would be baking of scrumptious cakes and pies and cookies. When they came to fetch me and picked me up I could already imagine finally being taken out of my box and I could already imagine my first tastes of whipped cream. And then they wrapped me in Christmas wrapping paper.

I am a regift!

I was taken to a gift exchange and given to an older couple who already had children. Children! If I could smile I would have been beaming when I saw them. Children! Sweets and candies and all sorts of good pastries would be in my future. I could hear the couple laugh as they showed me around. This was perfect! I was so happy!

When they brought me home they put me to the side. There was already another of me, of course, and I realised quickly that I would be again be relegated to back-bench status. My sanity clung to the hope that my predecessor would break and die and leave me to assume primary baking duties.

That didn’t happen, so next year I was wrapped up again.

I am still a regift!

This year I wasn’t even opened. I could hear laughter, of course, as my package was picked up. “Is this the same one that...?” I could hear, and even more laughter after that. I was put, practically tossed, to the side, without even the wrapping paper coming off. Instead of dreams of whipping cream with children and seeing it dabbed on their nose, all I got to see this year was darkness.

I am the gift that keeps on giving.

I even arrive with a clap. All sorts of applause follows me wherever I go, from family to family, gift to gift, regift to regift. It has been so often now I don’t even remember how many times I have been regifted , but I am sure it is no longer only at Christmas. I’ve been the brunt of birthday jokes, and probably even given out as a Halloween treat at one point. I do still occasionally hear laughter at my arrival as the same family passes me back and forth and back and forth, so I try to take some solace in that I at least bring laughter to them. One day... one day... I’ll be opened and used to... to... to do something... what is it I do again?

(c) All images and photographs, unless otherwise specified, are created and owned by me.
(c) Victor Wiebe

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