 |
| Sometimes the gift is not so much the thing itself, but the meaning it comes to take on later. Like this bottle of beer, part of the six-pack that Brian brought down from Mad-town for our ill-fated romantic weekend. The beverage itself is fine enough, sure, but the lesson learned--at the time, and sufficient after the fact to make me keep it, even now--was far more potent. |
You ask me what since we must part
You shall bring back to me.
Bring back a pure and faithful heart
As true as mine to thee.
You talk of gems from foreign lands,
Of treasure, spoil, and prize.
Ah love! I shall not search your hands
But look into your eyes.
[Juliana Horatia Ewing, 'Gifts']
No comments:
Post a Comment