Early in a marriage, couples sometimes fail to communicate or send the wrong messages because they don’t recognize the right ones.
On our first Feb. 14 together, my husband and I both decided (separately) to surprise each other with an extravagant gift that would break our budget but bring tears of joy to our eyes.
We lived in Norfolk, Va., where my husband was stationed, and the Ice Capades were going to be in town for the weekend. Growing up in Atlantic City, my friends and I thought of that show as the ultimate entertainment, but alas, we seldom saw a performance because no one had that kind of money to spare. Now I would have an opportunity to express my affection in a tangible way.
I could hardly wait to see the look in his eyes as he opened the envelope containing the tickets. He seemed to be eager to present his gift as well.
On Valentine’s Day morning, we could hardly finish our breakfast we were so excited. I held my breath as my hubby opened his envelope. From his expression, he could have been clutching hot coals in his hands.
Finally, he smiled and insisted that I open my card. I was nervous as I tore it open, and I nearly fainted when I saw the contents.
In addition to a romantic greeting promising undying love, there were two tickets to a hockey game to be played the following Saturday night at the same arena as the ice show.
In our zeal to produce the perfect gift, each of us had chosen our own “perfect gift.”
At that moment, I realized that my dreams were not necessarily his, and vice versa. In my dream, every girl longed to strap on the graceful white skates, don the colorful short skirt and glide across the ice in the arms of a handsome Prince Charming.
On the other hand, my husband’s home town was a Maine village with many lakes and ponds where children learned to skate almost as soon as they took first steps. Every boy had a pair of clunky black skates, a homemade hockey stick and a helmet of sorts. All winter, they assembled on somebody’s pond and chased an improvised puck. There was nothing graceful about those trips across the ice.
As it turned out, our gifts to each other were to share one another’s dream evening without complaint. I vowed to try to stay warm and to ask as few questions as possible. He pretended to know why the skaters were dressed so scantily and seemed to be dancing more than skating.
When all is said and done, it is not what we give one another or do for one another but the spirit in which we do it that truly conveys our love. When we genuinely attempt to do what is proper, we are right even when we are wrong. It is the respect for the receiver that sets apart the action and makes it a special gift. The compact between a generous giver and a gracious receiver is such that a bond is forged, and that bond endures long after the nature of the gift is forgotten.
What a gift it would be if we could accept one another for who and what we are and not look to make each other clones of ourselves. I have a feeling that in heaven, there will be a coalition and an angel will proclaim the mighty message, “Vive la difference!”
Ann Dow is a resident of West Deptford.
at the bottom and then tap “Add to Home Screen”