When I turned 26, my dad quoted Hermann Hesse on my card:
I don’t remember what present I got, but I do remember those words. Even though they technically weren’t his, my dad passing them on meant the world to me. In just eight words, he told me so much.
He told me he’d always love me for who I am, even if I was no longer the little guy building Duplo trains in his office. He acknowledged I was on a different path than he was — professionally, personally, any way whichever — and that was okay. He even encouraged me not to stop, for chasing change is what, ironically, makes us who we are.
They’re all like that, aren’t they? The best gifts are invisible. You can’t wrap them in fancy paper. Can’t send them in the mail.
There is nothing sadder than an influencer’s staged reaction when their spouse hands them another “surprise car” for their latest Youtube video. Where’s the context? Where’s the meaning?
Meanwhile, when The Rock gifts his stunt double a new truck, a 6’2″ giant breaks down and cries. That’s not ecstasy induced by new rims — it’s 17 years of blood, sweat, and literal tears bubbling to the surface.
“A small token of my appreciation,” The Rock called it, and indeed, the truck may as well have been a toy, because this gift — a real gift — is not about money. It’s about recognition, about gratitude, and about respect. The truck is just a symbol. Without their nearly two-decade relationship as friends and co-workers, it wouldn’t mean a thing.
Real gifts don’t have to make sense to outsiders. They’re imbued with history, not luxury. As long as you get the message, the world needn’t recognize it as a present.
Every day, we receive small gifts like this. Your partner checks the door is locked after you’ve fallen asleep. They refill your glass while you’re brushing teeth or buy your favorite candy bar without asking. These aren’t burdens lifted from our to-do list. They’re signs of understanding, and that’s why they’re worth much more than the effort they require.
It takes little to give these gifts and even less to accept them, which can make it hard to remember they’re the best gifts of all. Ultimately, however, they’re the only ones we’ll carry with us until the end.
Every now and then, stop and flick through the slide show in your head. Linger over the ones that stuck with you. Cherish their significance, even if you can’t explain why it’s there.
The best gifts are invisible, and they come in odd shapes and sizes. Like eight words on a random birthday — that say so much more than the ink on the page.