The Gift

“This is for you because you gave me the nice blanket,” our friend who does yard work for us was saying as he approached the open car window. Howard was picking him and his lawn mower up to do some mowing for our son. What is that? I wondered as he thrust something into the window. “For you to put on the porch,” he grinned.

O-oh, he was reciprocating. I had almost forgotten. When Eddie, a Native American, had been at our house helping my husband clean out some packaging from the installation of a new hot water heater in the basement, he had spotted an old blanket or sleeping bag down there and asked if he could have it. He put it in a plastic bag to take home, but apparently he had forgotten it. Then the last time he was over, he asked for it. It was no where to be found. Maybe it had been mistakenly thrown away.

As Howard was about to drive Eddie home that day, I asked, “Does he need a blanket?” and told them to wait a minute. I have bedding galore which is hardly ever used, so I thrust my hand into the linen closet and pulled out a puffy, quilted spread that I didn’t need. “Here, give him this,” I said as my husband headed out the door.

Howard told me later that Eddie really liked it, saying it was the nicest blanket he’d ever had. Well, I had liked it, too, and was glad he appreciated it. I had bought it at an estate sale, attracted by the bright blue and white design quilted into a diamond pattern on the comfy covering of just the right weight--light, but still warm. It had been on the bed before I changed my decorating scheme two comforters ago.

I looked at what he handed me and saw it was a heavy, metal motorcycle with side car, made of painted tin with an antique finish, wheels with spokes and handle bars that turn. (Maybe it was more for Howard than for me.) Eddie had painted our screened porch last year and admired my collection of bric-a-brac, including a miniature tricycle and tiny wire bicycle.

He didn’t know that I was tired of the junk and about to do some clearing out. But the gesture was so sweet! I wouldn’t have thought of refusing. Howard later told me that he thinks it is part of Indian culture to give a gift in return for a gift. And it is kind of a nice piece. Maybe I’ll just put it on the mantle for now, rather than let it collect dust on the porch. After all, it was given in kindness and that is all too rare these days!