What matters most
To the Editor:
Holidays tend to make me sentimental. At 17, I'm getting a bit too old to be showered with gifts, I sometimes like to go through my closet to find all the old gifts I've received over the years. I always feel a bit guilty, realizing how petty I was to ask my parents for so much and how ungrateful I was to so easily discard these gifts. As I've gotten older, however, I've also realized and come to appreciate the love with which they were given. I can still remember the day my Dad taught me how to ride my new bike, even though now the bike itself has gone long past its last mile.
There is a meaning to the holiday season that extends beyond giving and receiving physical gifts, but sometimes it can be lost in the hustle and bustle. An innumerable number of parents have already finished their holiday shopping during a Black Friday sale at some wholesale retailer, buying an innumerable number of toys for an innumerable number of children. But the truth that can be forgotten is that no matter how much a child wants (or whines) for something, it will, no matter what, eventually be lost in some corner of the closet. Eventually, every Nerf gun breaks, every game console is eventually outdated by its successor, and all Lego model sets find their way into the collective Lego bin. What remains far beyond all of those beloved trends are the memories; those are what make gifts special, and those are what I, as I become more an adult and less a child, cherish the most. Because after all, it really is the memory that matters most.