a gift, and the friend who gave it

A couple of weeks ago, I went on for a bit about our apartment's poor ventilation and the yucky smells we deal with as a result. That was it. The post was literally: We live in this apartment, and sometimes it stinks, and there's not much I can do about it, rant rant rant, ha ha ha.

Then, last Friday, I answered the door and the mailman handed me a large brown box. I was puzzled- I didn't think we had ordered anything recently. I opened it up to find this:

An air filter?!

The confusion vanished; I knew exactly who had sent the box. I texted this friend a picture and said "YOU ARE CRAZY AND I LOVE YOU."

"I love you too, although I don't remember putting my name on that," she replied.

"You didn't have to," I said.

And she didn't. This friend is an incredible giver and receiver of gifts. She knows people in a deeply thoughtful way, watching and observing and studying their quirks so she can love them better. This friend delights in sweetening other people's days with grace and joy and little surprises. The gifts she gives come in all forms: notes, food, time, encouragement, little presents. And she has an uncanny knack for timing-- if you need something, she knows it, and she probably knew it before you did.

As our friendship grew, I came to see what a beautiful thing gift-giving could be, and I learned how to do it in return. I still remember one of the very first gifts I gave her: a Slurpee from 7-11, all the flavors except blue, that I walked upwards of 2 miles across MSU's campus to bring to her when she was having a bad day. I did that a few times that year, because that girl can drink Slurpees for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

We live 2000 miles apart now, but that doesn't deter her. A few months ago, we were on the phone and I joked that all my stuff was falling apart, and my "to-buy" list was so unending that I couldn't ever convince myself to buy socks. A week later, of course, I got a box in the mail stuffed full of brand new socks; underwear and tights too, which she had guessed (rightly) that I also needed.

So she's struck again, and our air is filtered and odorless now. No more taco bathroom!

I'm grateful to this friend, not just for socks and an air filter, but for the way she's taught me to love and know and give, and how to brighten days, and how all of that helps me comprehend the Father's heart a little better.

And, sweet friend: Good try for anonymity, but gift-giving betrays gift-giving, if that makes sense. You're just too good at it. Maybe give me something awful next time? :)