The Perfect Gift

I want to tell you a story- a story of a little girl.

Once upon a time, there was a man. He was no ordinary man. He was a man with white hair and a long beard. Some called him Santa. Everyday, he would bring gifts to the people of his city and no two gifts were the same. All the gifts, he made by hand. There were no other gifts like his. His gifts were unique to him. They have his signature, his fingerprint, and his own style unlike any other. These gifts showed only a glimpse of how talented and skilled this man is. These delicate gifts showed the creativity and the care this man put into everything part and piece. The gifts are a reflection of the maker himself.

Now these gifts are distributed everyday to every single child in the town. Some of the children were ecstatic and overjoyed to see what new gift they would get to play with today. Others found no interest in these toys. Some children opened the gift and immediately started to toss it around. Others brought the gift back home into the safety of their own rooms and played with it themselves. Some shared their gifts. Others refused to let anyone else touch their toy. Some started to draw and add to the gift, adding what they think the gift still needed, while others would try to imitate and recreate the gift.

This little girl was one of the kids who would try every day to recreate the gift she brought her. She wanted to replicate and through replication acquire the skills and talent of the white hair and beard man. She wanted to be like the craftsman. She wanted to imitate him. So she did... or she tried. No matter how concentrated and determined she was to replicate the gift to its most intricate detail, her version was always missing something. She could not replicate the gifts no matter how hard she tried. Her gifts were only a second version to the original.

When she would finally give up at the end of the day, all she knew how to do was to stare in awe. How complicated and purposefully designed the gift was. Every curve and mark were intentional. Every groove and layer only added more to show how brilliant this man was. The more she stared in awe  of the gift, the more she was in awe of the creator behind the gift. Her attempt and inability to replicate the craft reflects the mastery and perfection this man has poured into every gift that he shares with the children of the town.

The little girl realizes after a while that she will never be able to replicate the man's gift to the very scars and scratches. She is not the man with the white hair and the beard. She cannot be him. She cannot be the creator that the man is, but that is okay. She might never have a complete and perfect replica, but that does not change the fact that the little girl already has perfection in her hand.