Keepers

Every time I look at this coffee cup, I smile. I get a ripple of a thrill, a twinge of nostalgia.

The coffee cup is thirty years old. Yes. Thirty years old. And yes, I wash it frequently--I love small, aged trivets, but not aged bacteria.

How do I know this mug is thirty years old? Because it was the first present my oldest daughter gave me. Bought it on her own at the Secret Santa Shop, Pleasant Ridge Elementary School, Knoxville, Tennessee. Purchased in 1989; opened before Christmas day that same year, used first on Christmas morning that year, cherished since then.

That alone makes it charming and personally valuable, but it's not the only reason I relish this coffee cup. I love it because of the story that goes with it.

In the late Fall of 1989, Jessie brought home the school announcement that there would be a Secret Santa Shop that all the kids could go too. If we the parents would send some small amount of money their child could spend, then the last week of the semester, each class would get a block of time in the Secret Santa Shop.

What a great idea! Jessie was so excited; not only was she in first grade, and loving learning, now she could shop on her own! Brilliant!

Of course, we participated; we dropped off Jessie the very next day with some small sum, probably about ten dollars (the Secret Santa items were all very inexpensive, noted the school announcement). And she deposited her cash with her teacher, and was ready, money in the bank.

She came home the last day of school, quivering with excitement. She absolutely, positively could not wait for her mom, younger sister and me to open our gifts. So, at dinner, she brought her backpack to the dinner table, and when the eating had ended, we said, "Sure! This will be Christmas warm-up."

I honestly don't remember what Suzie Q and Ali got; I do know the gifts were incredibly thoughtful and sweet. Jessie really matched present to person; it was clear she had given her choices very intentional thought. And excellent calculation.

I opened my present after Sue and Ali, and behold! this coffee cup. It was wonderful, though not nearly as wonderful at Jessie's excitement and pleasure. She was so proud of her gifts, she radiated happiness.

We were done, ready to clean up, take on night chores, read a story or two. But before we could leave the table, Jessie said, "Wait! It's my turn!" And from her backpack she pulled a fourth present, wrapped and enticing. She opened it and whooped with delight (again, I'm not certain what her present was, though I bet she does. Some fancy Christmas hair bows, is my best recollection).

"Aw, those are cute!" Sue said. Ali asked if she could borrow them (yes, but you have to ask first); I asked if I could, (no. you don't have enough hair). Then came the curiosity question.

"Did your teacher put in the gift for you?"

"Nope. I just split the money evenly, and I got myself these." Happy laugh. Mild chagrin (very mild). Delighted self satisfaction. Proud cleverness.

It was so fun, to watch all those emotions and more flit across Jessie's face. We three were laughing, of course, finding Jessie's self care and mostly innocent guile hilarious. It is still fun, to remember it, to enjoy again that evening, to feel those emotions stir, to be reminded how fortunate I am to have these three women in my life, these two daughters and this wife.

I look at my coffee cup every day (though I don't use it every day--even special coffee cups, especially special coffee cups, get time off, now and then). I remember the evening. I smile.

I get the purest, simple happiness.

Life is a wonder, full of stories. And full of delight, brought forth from the simplest of things.