Someone asked me today, "What makes you happy?" And I've kind of been thinking about one thing that makes me happy lately, in part because of my niece.
I have a 6 year old niece who loves to give. At Christmas, she went around the house finding all of these things to wrap and give to her little brother. Just used stuff--a book, a craft from school, that kind of thing, but she was just really into the whole wrapping and giving thing. (The only downside to this was, all the kids had finished unwrapping their gifts except her little brother, who still had a pile because of all of her gifts to him. But it worked out).
She also loves to draw and made three separate birthday cards for her little brother on his recent birthday. She frequently makes me gifts of her artwork, as well. Sometimes I think it is so she doesn't have to find a home for it, but most of the time (9 out of 10 times) it is because she really wants me to have it. (At a recent concert that I semi-attended with them, she left me several pages of artwork in my notebook, unbeknownst to me. When I discovered it, it made my day, and I had to show it off to everyone around. I actually took it to church just to share my treasure).
My point is, she really likes to share her talents and give to others. And I love that, because I like doing that too. It makes me happy. I love to think of the look on someone's face when I give them something, especially something that is just right for them. Gift shopping is a big thing for me, because I want more than anything for the recipient to know that I care about them. And I love to stumble across things, know that someone would enjoy it, and just give it to them for no reason. (Don't get me wrong. I also love to receive gifts, and am known to gift things to myself. Just want to get that out there).
I remember as a child, doing a Home Evening activity where we were writing nice things about family members. And I spent so much time, trying to think of just the right thing to say to my dad, to let him know I really thought about it. I wanted him to know he was special and that I noticed. I was probably 10 years old, and I remember how much I wanted him to feel loved.
I had a grandpa who would buy every music book on the shelf at the thrift store and bring it to our house. He found out my sister wanted to learn to play the violin, and bought one. He gave it to her in exchange for a song on the piano. My grandpa was a gruff fellow, or that's how he always seemed to me. I had a teacher that knew him, who had a very different perspective, but as a shy kid that was one of dozens of grandkids, he seemed gruff. But I must have known he wasn't gruff on the inside. Maybe it was the way he always had candy for us, or would get surgeons gloves for us to use as balloons. I don't know. But somehow, I got it in my head that he loved to hear his grandkids playing music. And I would time it so that when he came over, I'd be playing the piano. Or I'd try to sit down and tinker, ever so casually and definitely not planned, of course, on the piano at his house. And I would do it because I wanted to give him that gift. I don't even know if he did like that, and my piano playing wasn't the best. I have no idea if he ever even noticed. I just remember that I wanted to do something for him that he would like. And I was happy whenever I did it.
I think the reason giving makes me so happy is because I love people. I AM shy and introverted, but that doesn't mean I don't like or care about people. I do. And I love to be able to bring a bit of happiness to them. It makes me feel like a contributor to the world. It makes me feel like I can make a difference in some way.
It just makes me happy.
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