The truth is, I regift. The chocolates I got from an office mate went into stockings. The gift card to a local coffee shop from a preschool mom went to my twins. The bottle of wine from a coworker, which by the way was a nice one, made another daughter smile. 

Even if those presents were only technically mine for a brief time, it still felt good to offer them. The responses from my kids were more satisfying than if I had downed the bag of chocolate in one sitting. Not that I wasn't tempted. 

Benjamin has trouble coming up with gifts. He has no income, no means of transportation, and no clue what his siblings want. If it were up to him, with all obstacles out of the way, he would buy them all juice and grab two glasses. He likes sparkling cider, so of course they must too. I intervened, getting prints made of photos from the wedding last October and handing him frames. He inserted enlargements of him with his siblings, wrapped them carefully and wrote his name on the tag. 

Success.

It mattered not at all that he did not actually take the photo. Or pay for the print. Or pick out the frame. Or rummage through the basement for the paper. Or hunt in my desk for the tape. It was from him, and it made two people happy. Three. 

Music has been one of my gifts. Since high school I have composed songs, and sung them. It brings people joy to have me share them, or so they tell me. Funny thing is it makes both of us joyful. 

Make that three of us.