A tale of two ‘grans’: loving the giver more than the gift

Story and illustration by Dara Wilkinson

In my family there are two ways to choose a gift for someone. On one hand, you can consider the typical preferences of that person—the way you know them to be—and choose a gift accordingly. Alternatively, you can recall any plainly stated wishes shared in everyday conversation.

The key sentiment common to both approaches, however, is the love. The giver loves the recipient and is loved in turn. Similarly, the receiver might love the gift but loves the giver more.

As a child I loved it when one of my aunts had sweeties in her pocket to give me. When I look back, I hope I hugged my aunts just as enthusiastically even without sweets.

Then there were my grandmothers. I am happy to share just two of many instances of their generosity.

My grandmother in the country was a seamstress. She loved to wear sturdy slippers, wash her long hair in the concrete sink, drink juice in an enamel cup, and share whatever she had with people in general. It was amazing to be five years old and see her being warmly greeted when “making market”.

When I was around nine years old, she gave me a studded red belt as a gift. It was slender and limber, with a silver buckle, D-rings and grommets. Picture the 1980s, an era of superfluous zippers and fluorescent socks.

My grandmother was making a grand, generous gesture by copying the styles she saw me gazing at on the Top Ten videos each Saturday morning.

At nine years old, however, I could not read the thoughtfulness. Back then, I associated belts with school uniforms so it felt almost as if my Granny had gifted me a number 2 pencil.

My mom noticed my fallen face and quietly took me aside to explain how much my grandmother was hoping to surprise and please me. I went back out to their big porch where we would all gather, hugged Granny and told her that I was glad she had given it to me.

I said so because I loved the giver, even if I was not over the moon for the gift. Of course, life being a funny thing, I have more than loved the memory of that gift for the past few decades.

In Genesis 29 there was a man named Jacob who was not too thrilled about his gift either. He wanted Rachel. He woke up married to Leah. He had worked seven years for the reward he wanted, yet Jacob did not complain too long about the ole bait-and-switch.

He kept a good attitude, marrying Rachel as well a week later and working an additional seven years in return. Generations later, Our Saviour Jesus was born from the lineage of Jacob’s union with Leah. The unwanted yet lovely gift was the vessel for a major blessing.

Gran’s hairbrush

My town grandmother was also a seamstress. She loved to make preserved sweets, sing kaiso quietly to her family, sit on her porch looking out, and give safe refuge to long-term house guests who became fully embraced as genuine family. We simply called her Gran.

Whereas my country Granny loved to sing hymns, my town Gran loved to pray and led all the children in prayers to Gentle Jesus at bedtime.

When I was 16, I went to stay a week at Gran’s house. She had a beautiful new hairbrush that managed to marshal my exuberant waves into a kind of streamlined neatness.

I told Gran I loved her hairbrush. Without missing a beat she said, “You can have it.” In a flash, it occurred to me that not every good thing offered ought to be accepted. I liked the hairbrush. I loved the giver. I wanted her to be able to enjoy the gift she was trying to present to me.

So, I declined with a “You keep it, Gran” and a smile. I loved the giver.

In Acts 16, Paul and Silas, while in jail, praised at midnight and the earth shook and the prison gates flew open. They could have walked right out.

Instead, they closed the gates and stayed put. It resulted in the conversion of the jailer’s heart and their act remains as a witness to others until this day. They loved the gift. They chose to give it back to the Giver. They loved Him more.

Make no mistake. As a simple seeker, I in no way intend to equate myself with these larger-than-life great men of the Bible. We just see here possible ways to approach giving and receiving.

The gift may be wonderful but for the most part it demonstrates the fact that the giver loves. The giver loves… indeed, Our God the Giver does…