At first, it felt sharp at the edges and solid in form. Then there was the wrapping paper, it gave no hint of the contents within. The look of 'the gifter' gave me hope that love went into the gift that I was about to open.
As I opened it up to reveal it's true meaning, I cried for the first time in front of my daughter. Well, the first time since the day of her birth anyways.
The gift was was not significant because of cost, or value to the world. It was a true Christmas gift. Made by hand and with love. And a sincere desire to give what needed to be gotten.
You see, not-so-mini-Peb's is a Photographer. To say her work is stunning and incredibly pleasing to the eye, is only the largest of under-statements. There is little wonder why she won the very first competition that she entered. Her art is classical black and white. Her method is to send a message through her work, for all, (or in this case) for one to see.
Her gift was a true self portrait, in all of it's ultimate meaning.
As I gaze at the beauty and it's wonderment, I stand humbled by the two most obvious of facts. The talent she has to create such beauty, and the beauty she carries with such dignity at the age of only 17.
We can "rage duo" in all our glory, at some ear bleeding metal "Boo."
But nothing say's Christmas to me my daughter, like the gift I was given of you.
The portrait tells me who you are, and why you are this way.
The woman inside let's me know for sure, I should be prouder every day.
Merry Christmas not-so-mini-Peb's ! And thanks for making the old man cry.
My sincerest thanks for dropping by ....