It’s the first day of December, and our neighbourhood has begun to glow again. The streets are laced with lights, and shop windows glimmer with colourful decorations. The Christmas market, which is outside our building, opened last Saturday. It’s 6:34 am here; I’ll take some pictures later and post them closer to the 25th.
Everywhere, we’re reminded that it’s time for giving and for thinking about what kind of gifts truly last. I believe that amid the glitter and the rush, few presents feel as timeless or as personal as a book. I’m not saying this because I’m an author but because it is a present that can be reopened.
A book is more than an object wrapped in paper; it’s a world waiting to unfold. To give someone a book is to say, I know what might move you, challenge you, or make you dream. It’s a gift that invites reflection long after you’ve torn apart the wrapper. It can travel with you in a bag, rest on a bedside table or nightstand, or live on your shelf waiting to be read in the future.
A book carries something of the giver. The title you choose and the note you write inside the cover become part of the story too. Every page turned is a small act of connection between three minds and hearts (i.e. giver, receiver, and author). As well, it doesn’t beep, need batteries, and go out of style.
This December, amid the glitters and ribbons, a carefully chosen book may be your most generous gesture of all.
Let’s remember that the simplest gift often speaks the loudest.
Happy holiday season. Stay safe and cheerful.