Gifts aren't my love language, but I learned to appreciate the joy others take in giving - and being received graciously
Somehow, I never felt good receiving things — presents, compliments, invitations. As a child, I waited anxiously for my birthday and for Chanukah, but when gifts came, I felt awkward, shy, unsure.
Perhaps I sensed my parents’ financial hardships. Maybe my ambivalence was a reflection of my uncertainty about my place in the world, my sense of belonging, of mattering.
Maybe I didn’t get the point.
And sometimes I didn’t get what I might have really wanted.
Once again, it’s the first night of Chanukah. We’re gathered as a family in our living room. The flames of the menorah are dancing in the background. We’ve handed out gifts to the kids, carrying on one of the few traditions that we could bring with us from our nonreligious childhoods.
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