The Gift: Living With Open Hands

In the beginning, I thought I was asking for help. Now, I know that I am building a castle, and the gift is everyone who comes along and builds the castle with me.

Lewis Hyde’s The Gift keeps giving me ideas.

When I was a child, there were no gifts.

No joy.

No love.

As an adult, I love gifts. I love wrapping them badly. Receiving them. Giving them. Choosing them. I love giving boxes of fudge, cookies, books, toys, puppets, kittens.

I love choosing just the right gift. I paid an artist to draw my daughter-in-law’s dog, Daisy, in a journal and gave it to her last year for Christmas. She cried. I felt like such a winner. I had given her something she loved.

I love choosing gifts, picturing the person who will unwrap the gift, and hoping they will find joy.

Children are often as excited by the wrapping paper as the gift itself. Many of my friends are already buying gifts for their grandchildren. In the next few years, my daughter hopes to have children, and I look forward to giving kid gifts: toys and books, toy boxes and bookshelves. I look forward to sharing in the play space and dream life of their children.

Everyone that I love, I want to give a gift. I want to hand them a piece of the moon, like in the Calvino story. To me, it is a way to enter a common space where we are kin. Giving and receiving gives us a deep connection to one another. It means that we are not alone on the planet in making things work.

The work I do at Red Hen Press has me out in the world, finding partners who want to contribute to the work we do. At first, it seemed challenging to me. People often say, “I’m not good at fundraising.” I don’t think of myself as fundraising. I am not finding donors. I am looking for partners who also want to change the world. I find people who also want to build literacy for children, who want to empower a publishing house that publishes women, queer writers, BIPOC writers, writers of the West, writers with disabilities, and other diverse voices. I find partners who want to make room for the stories that matter.

These partners contribute change-making gifts, and often, part of their contribution is knowledge and vision. We are building worlds together. A shared vision is a much bigger and stronger vision.

In the beginning, I thought I was asking for help. Now, I know that I am building a castle, and the gift is everyone who comes along and builds the castle with me.

The Cathedral of Chartres was burned down and rebuilt five times. Each time, the faithful gathered, gave gifts, and rebuilt it better than the last. Everyone who gave is part of the cathedral.

Everyone who has ever given to a nonprofit is part of the soul of that organization.

The basic DNA of Red Hen is community, so we are happy to invite people into our space to be gift-givers in any way that works for them. We do our best to return the breadth of generosity by uplifting essential stories into the world and inspiring the next generation of writers.

This holiday season, I plan to give gifts and make gifts. Maybe flowers or wreaths, fudge or cookies. I think of gifts as inviting your loved ones into your wander dream space. If you’re in the circle of water, I will have something for you.

One of the best gifts I ever received was when my friend, Jacqueline, gave me eight rose bushes. Every day, they give me happiness. Jacqueline, you gave me joy. I am giving back that joy every day.

Let’s keep the joy going. Let’s live with open hands.