The best gift I ever received was a box with a whistle inside. This may not sound like much of a gift, but it came to me from my father on my birthday one year, and I liked the simplicity of the gift and the meaning behind it. The whistle was just a plain red whistle, like the kind that policemen use when directing traffic. The box was made of some kind of ceramic with an inscription on the lid: ôWhenever you need me, just whistle.ö In all the years that my dad gave me giftsùand he gave me many thoughtful giftsùthis one topped them all, in my book. To me, it meant, ôI will always be there for you; you can count on me.ö
My dad died only a couple of years after he gave me that gift, and I have treasured it ever since. We were close, and I had a hard time seeing what my life was going to be like without him in it. My life just did not seem to work without him in it. It was hard to explain, but if I heard a joke I knew he would like or had a problem I knew he could help me with, my first thought was to pick up the phone and call him. Then I would remember that he was gone. It was tough. Then one day I came across the box. I read the inscription again, and opened the lid to look at the red whistle inside. I blew it, and then the impact of what I had lost really hit me. After struggling with the pain of it for a few minutes, something dawned on me. The gift my dad had given me was not the box or the whistle. It was not even the promise that he would always be there. It was the knowledge that he really loved me, and that his love would never change. I donÆt think a lot of dads give their sons that message, and those sons can never understand what it feels like to be me. I am blessed.
The worst gift I ever received came from someone who had been my best friend for a long time and had always picked out nice gifts until this one. She gave me a subscription to a magazine that I had never
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