An Unforgettable Gift | Yoko Sato (Dean, Faculty of Nursing and Medical Care)
2006.01.26
Receiving a gift is a joy at any age, but the timing of the gift can increase or decrease that joy, so the way it is given requires some thought. The joy of receiving a gift is further magnified when I imagine the giver thinking of me, pondering what I might like, and going through the trouble of choosing something. Last Christmas, a small package arrived right on Christmas Eve. Imagining that person taking time out of their busy schedule to choose something and ensure it arrived on Christmas Eve warmed my heart.
I myself am an extremely indolent person, the type who finds it difficult to do things in a timely manner.
When it comes to giving gifts, despite thinking and worrying a lot about what would make the recipient happy, I often fail to come up with something I'm satisfied with. I end up procrastinating, missing the right moment, and then sheepishly giving the gift late with an apology like, "Sorry this is late." I've repeated this pattern throughout my life. As a result, I don't have many memories of giving a gift that I felt truly satisfied with, knowing it brought joy. In that respect, it has been a sad life.
For these reasons, a gift that arrives in a timely manner makes me happy just for that fact alone, and I find myself envious of people who can do such things. I believe that being able to convey the "feelings" behind a gift is a kind of talent.
In addition to being indolent, since I was a child, I was the type to worry about trivial details and be concerned about what others thought of me. From my elementary school days, I would critically observe my mother's actions, making demands like, "That looks uncool," or "Do it more neatly," which would earn me a scolding for being a "disagreeable child." On such occasions, my mother would often say, "Children don't need to worry about such trivial little things."
When I grew up and started complaining to my mother about my worries over workplace relationships, she declared, "As long as you stay true to the main path, it's okay if the small things are a little wrong or crooked!"
Even now, as I live a life that has far surpassed my mother's age at the time, these words continue to be my guide. Whenever I'm unsure of which path to take, I recall my mother's words and tell myself, "That's right, there's no need to fear small mistakes. As long as I don't lose sight of the direction I should be heading," and I draw courage from them.
These words my mother left me are an unforgettable gift.
(Published: 2006/01/26)