Getting and giving presents during the holidays is the best! Is any other human interaction more sublime? Gifts celebrate, honor and bring joy. Plus, it’s just how we’re wired to roll this time of the year. We as a people have been making a big deal about holiday presents for a long, long time. Did the OG gift-giving wise men arrive at the manger emptyhanded? No, they did not. They brought expensive, meaningful gifts from their holiday travel — presents that screamed, “you’re special and loved.” They made sure newborn Jesus had fancy packages of gold, Frankincense and Myrrh under His tree. Nothing less would do for their Baby. They gifted him royally.

But maybe we’re missing the point, or at least the better option, when we imagine the First Presents. What about those shepherds and barn animals? They DID show up emptyhanded! Holy heavens! Tres gauche! How cheap! How self-centered and super ra-hude those dusty ranch hands were at such a holy moment! Or, not. Maybe they were the biggest spenders of them all. Those poor shepherds and four-legged friends were emptyhanded, but they were not emptyhearted. They brought the gift supreme: the fullness of their PRESENCE. And that present is, in my humble and lowly opinion, the most sublime human interaction that exists even today. Presence is the best gift of all.

I am terrible at this because I really enjoy giving actual presents to friends and family. It’s my love language. I think long and hard about what present I will buy and I try to get just the right thing. I love wrapping all that BS up and putting it under my tree. And I love seeing adored faces light up when the presents I’ve curated are opened and appreciated. And I love getting gifts, too, because it tells me, “this person really knows and loves me.” Stuff gifts bring me some blissful measure of contentment.

I’m sad to say I can go overboard and get caught up in the stuff vs. the moment. I get tripped up emphasizing presents over presence. I need to focus on the donkey’s version of presence instead of the Kings’ presents. Presence, after all, is a bestseller. It’s highly rated and 100 percent sure to please.

I should know this from my own childhood. I remember my Grandmother’s hugs and hot radiator much more than I do the socks or dollar bills she gave me each Christmas. I appreciate the low key tradition of canned cranberry sauce, white rice and hot dinner rolls at my other grandmother’s house each Christmas Even more than whatever Sound Warehouse gift card she put under the tree for my brother and me. And though I never knew they were doing it, I will be forever grateful to my grandparents for gifting college money each December, dollars that added up and funded my education later in life. I can’t remember what kind of robes, slippers, watches and Walkmans I received from my parents, but I relish the memories of us together in the early mornings and the conversation, interest, guidance and gracious affection they always demonstrated — during the holidays and through each year they were alive.

Music was another gift of presence I was fortunate enough to receive during the holidays. My grandmother’s family would convene each year at one of the siblings’ homes and someone always played the piano. There was always singing. Fledgling musicians also were invited to perform. I played the cello, my cousin Jenny jammed on the flute. My dad often would usually hammer out an accompaniment on the piano. At home, Dad played the flute and piano when he was stressed out. I remember those presence. I think fondly of the early mornings when I’d see my mom sitting on the couch on a dark sunporch, reading her Bible and steeling herself quietly for the day. Those moments, too, were wonderful presence. I’ll never forget when mom died and my Goliad grandmother just arrived at our house, and stayed. And cooked. And hugged. Presence. And when my Uncle George and Aunt Pam also moved in for a spell, just — to be. Presence.

I’ve also come to know how short-lived these opportunities for presence can be. Most of the folks I mention above are gone now. And I wish I’d been more aware of what an expensive, loving gift it was to spend time with them.

I’m going to try real, real hard to develop a new love language in 2024 — one that doesn’t need buying or wrapping or fussing over. The intangible gifts are better! Presence, not presents, is the gift that keeps on giving!