It's The Thought That Counts

Every year, because I know she loves to decorate for Christmas (because she's where I come from), I give my dear grandmother a Christmas decoration.  This year Braeden and I carefully selected a nutcracker soldier.  He held a drum and when you wound the little knob on the bottom, he played music and played on the drum.  We thought she'd like it.

I surveyed my house and found a box the nutcracker would fit in.  He fit exactly.  I wrapped the box then I wrapped it again in brown paper.  I wrote, "Open Before Christmas" on the brown paper...it was after all a Christmas decoration.  I sent it on its merry way.

On Saturday night I had a message on my answering machine from my grandma but it was too late to return her call.  She said she'd gotten the present and I had to smile, thinking of her.

Sunday she called again.  She thanked me abundantly for the present.  My grandma is gracious and appreciative of the smallest gesture.  She always makes me feel like whatever small deed, I made her day.  We had a nice little chat.

Monday morning she called again.

That delighted me.  I always love to hear from my grandma.

She told me that she'd decided to have yogurt for breakfast. 

(I didn't know where she was going with that but she said it like that was significant.)

She told me she'd opened the yogurt box and there was a nutcracker soldier inside.

(Oh, did I mention that the perfect box for the soldier was a yogurt box?  The kind from Costco I get on a regular basis?  The kind that holds about 18 containers of yogurt?)

Suddenly it dawned on me.

"Grandma!  Did you think I sent you yogurt for a Christmas present?"

She said yes.  She told me she'd put it in the refrigerator and had decided she'd better eat it before she went to Nevada.  (She going to my parents' house for Christmas.)

We both giggled on the phone about the wooden nutcracker soldier that had spent a few days refrigerated and I asked her if she had thought that yogurt was a strange gift.  "Well," she said, always ready to defend my gift choices,  "I just thought you wanted me to have yogurt."

Wow, I love my grandma.

She's the kind of grandma that even if her granddaughter sends her a box of yogurt for a Christmas gift, she'll call her and give her profuse thanks.  She'll unquestioningly put the box in the refrigerator and dutifully decide she'd better get it eaten.  My grandma teaches me more than anyone I know what unconditional love is. 

I know know KNOW my grandma loves me.

(And that is the best feeling in the world.)