How about the opposite?  Just before we got married, I bought my husband an expensive watch because he’d been complaining about his old watch.  When I gave him the beautifully wrapped package, he said, "I hope it’s not a watch." 

i am planning a vacation to gatlinburg, tenn next week, any one know of any good places to visit while im there, any good restaurabts to eat at, any good shows to see

When my paternal grandmother died, my family swooped in on her worldly possessions like a swarm of locusts. Almost as an after-thought, my mother and my siblings asked me if there wasn’t something that I would like to have. I hated what was happening, of losing my grandmother, etc., but I knew there was one thing that I wanted to have and, MIRACULOUSLY, no one else had claimed it. My grandmother’s old wind-up victrola was the first nice, special thing that my grandfather had ever been able to buy her—it was the best gift ever given to her. One of my most treasured memories of my grandmother Ada was when, on Sunday afternoons after everyone had eaten the always-delicious lunch she had prepared for us and my older siblings were off doing other things, she would crank up the old victrola and we would listen to her collection of 78s together. Just grandmother and me, listening to songs ranging from "You are My Sunshine", to "Sentimental Journey", to Enrico Caruso’s operatic solos. Grandmother’s gift was truly a gift of love that has kept on giving…She nurtured and enriched my love of music which I have passed on to my children. Ada’s victrola sits in an honored place in my own living room, and it is still cranked up and enjoyed today. Like my memories of my grandmother Ada, I will never part with it!

The best gifts are those given from the heart. When I think back over the years it is the love and caring that comes through more than the actual gifts.

My best gifts have been my sister and brother and through them my nieces and nephews. I am childless and they are my children, loved and spoiled and enjoyed. The gift of my sister’s friendship after a hard childhood is one of my most precious treasures.

Susan Thomas

I was born with a cleft lip, and as a child I had multiple surgeries to correct this in hospitals all over the country.  When I was 5 we lived in Kansas City, MO and I was in the hospital to have another surgery.  My surgical nurse spent a lot of time with me, she liked to bond to her patients to help make them comfortable.  During all of my encounters with her she promised me that she would have a toy or a doll for me on the day of surgery so I could take it with me into the operating room.  When the day of my surgery came around, she was so busy that she forgot to bring me a toy.  My Mom remembers how terrible she felt about it, but there was nothing to be done.  While I was in the waiting room another girl noticed me and saw that I was scared and didn’t have anything to hold.  She was about 14 and had been seriously burned.  Even though she had more than enough on her plate she made her parents go down to the gift shop and buy me a stuffed dog so I would have something to hold.  Now, she hadn’t seen the nurse tell my family she forgot my toy, she had no idea of the situation, she just saw a younger girl who was scared and wanted to do something to comfort me.  I took the stuffed dog into surgery with me, and I’ve had it ever since.  Whenever I see it I remember the precious spirit who gave it to me and I am in awe of her generosity and selflessness.  It’s been almost 27 years since that day, but I’m tearing up now just remembering it.  My Mom cries everytime we talk about it, because even though she could never have known it, that girl was an answer to a mother’s prayer.  I can’t imagine a better gift.

Mine was from my stepfather, who came into my life when I was ten after my own beloved dad had died. When I was about 16 he gave my mother and me hand tooled billfolds he had had made by a women who did leatherwork as a hobby. That’s never been my style, but I recognized the love that went with the gift so I carried it for years. When I was in my early 20s it was stolen while I was at the St. Louis Zoo. Not only did I lose my beloved billfold, I lost the four-leaf clover that I carried inside it. I had found that in my own dad’s billfold after his death. The thief was welcome to keep the $6 in the billfold, but he took the things that were really precious to me.