While reading various texts, I often find myself captivated by specific passages, unable to pinpoint exactly why. One such moment occurred while revisiting “Story of a Soul,” the spiritual memoir of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. Recently, I grasped why one paragraph resonated so deeply with me.
The setting: In 1897, Thérèse, in her early twenties and battling tuberculosis, sat in her wheelchair in her convent garden. Tasked by her Prioress to document her childhood memories, she struggled to write. She described the distractions around her:
“When I begin to write, a Sister passes by with a pitchfork. She thinks a bit of chit-chat will help me focus: hay, ducks, hens, visits from the doctor—everything is covered. Another worker tosses flowers in my lap, believing they’ll inspire poetic thoughts. However, I wish to see those flowers swaying in the fields instead… I don’t think I’ve managed to write ten lines without interruption. Yet, out of love for God and my Sisters, I strive to appear joyful and genuinely feel it. For instance, a hay worker recently left me saying, ‘Poor little Sister, it must be tiring to write all day.’ I replied, ‘Don’t worry; it looks like I’m writing a lot, but truthfully, it’s almost nothing.’ ‘That’s fine!’ she said, ‘I’m just glad we’re haying since it distracts you a little.’ In fact, it’s such a distraction that I can honestly say I’m hardly writing at all.”
In this reflection, Thérèse highlights the importance of embracing gifts in the manner they are intended, rather than fixating on the gifts themselves. She wasn’t interested in idle chatter or flowers; her focus was on writing. Still, she made an effort to appear content, and more importantly, to be content.
Andy Warhol once remarked, “You can never predict what little things will set off peculiar emotional reactions in other people.” I recall a moment from years ago when my partner brought home a large gardenia plant—a thoughtful gesture meant to please me. My response? A weak, “Thanks, it’s so…big.” Inside, I was overwhelmed with self-doubt: Where would I place it? Could I care for it? I feared it would wilt away, just as I had with other plants, leading to disappointment.
Gifts often elicit unexpected reactions. Warhol’s words ring true; even simple actions can trigger strong emotions. My insecurities prevented me from responding with the excitement such a wonderful gift deserved. My partner chose the largest gardenia because he knew how much I loved them! I should have not only pretended to be happy but found genuine joy in the moment. Now, whenever I catch a glimpse of a gardenia, I think back to that gift and the opportunity I missed.
“Respond to the spirit of a gift” is a principle that seems straightforward yet requires constant reminding. For more insights on the emotional aspects of gift-giving, check out this article that delves into related themes.
In conclusion, embracing the intent behind a gift can transform our reactions and deepen our appreciation for the thoughtfulness behind it. For more information about home insemination and pregnancy, Healthline offers an excellent resource, and for practical tools, Cryobaby provides trusted options for home insemination.