The little soap bird...

          Opening a cabinet, I discover her perched there on a high shelf… the little bird made of soap.

I haven’t been a teacher for over 30 years, but I still have the little soap bird, a gift from a former student.  It was so lovely I decided to save it for a special occasion – which apparently never came.  So there sits the little soap bird on the shelf, exactly where it has been for all these years, waiting patiently to be used, never fulfilling its intended purpose.  She’s only slightly the worse for wear, with a tiny chip missing from her beak.  Why have I kept the soap bird so long and never used it?  Why do we save things for some future time and deny ourselves the enjoyment and pleasure of using them in the present? 

Upon opening a gift of a scented candle or beautiful note cards, a friend often exclaims, “You know I can’t use it!”  Just like me with the little soap bird, she finds it difficult to make herself use the gifts she is given, saving them for some unknown future day when the time is suddenly right to burn the candle or write on the note cards.

My mother stockpiles nightgowns and robes for the possibility of a hospital stay.  Her closet and drawers are filled with new pastel robes and gowns while she continues to wear old, threadbare ones. 

What is it within us that chooses to save, hoard, or postpone using the gifts we have been given?  Is it some deep-seated feeling of unworthiness that makes us believe we are undeserving of gifts.  Maybe we fear some future time of need in which we will require just the thing we have been saving.  Or possibly we cannot bring ourselves to open the gift and thereby destroy forever its pristine newness. 

We are all given gifts every day which we choose to use or store.  Used, they can bring delight and fulfillment.  Unused, they sit high on a shelf, neglected and unable to fulfill their created purpose. An unused gift is lost potential, stifled joy.  A gift is meant to be opened, used, and shared….like a box of Godiva chocolates.

This year, I resolve to open and use gifts, not save and hoard them.  I want no more little soap birds but a life of extravagant thankfulness and grateful generosity.