I freely admit that I am a difficult person to buy presents for. I wish it weren’t true, but I’ve even returned gifts given to me by the closest of family members. The small consolation that I feel is that I am not alone in this sad truth. According to the National Retail Federation, 17% of all goods sold during the winter holidays will be returned—that’s roughly $900 billion worth. But why? Are we a fickle people or is there something more profound at play? There is an undeniable intersection when a gift has both relational value and a unique poignancy to us. I cherish the bible given to me by the bishop who ordained me a priest. My husband fiercely protects the porcelain Christmas tree that belonged to his great grandmother. My fraternity brother’s daughter still goes to bed every night with the same Vermont Teddy Bear we got her a few Christmases ago. The right gift has the ability to convey something more meaningful than its monetized retail value. It can connect how we are seen by others with how we hope to see ourselves. Admittedly, most gifts can’t do that—which is why if they aren’t immediately useful they get returned. We know we shouldn’t equate gifts with love but it’s also impossible to deny the pure joy seen on a person’s face when you surprise them with a gift. The biggest mistake however is to assume that all gifts are material or fungible. I would argue that the most important part of a gift is its intangible value and that cannot be transferred. The bible I own isn’t a particularly unique translation and the book itself is not a first edition. It is however an artfully and intellectually well translated bible given by the bishop who consecrated me a priest on the day of that consecration, sacramentality intersecting with personal accomplishment. For Brendan, we actually own two porcelain Christmas Trees, but he can easily tell the difference between the two. In addition to their subtle differences based on decades of difference in age, the older one carries with it an heirloom sentimental value. And for Silvy, every young child yearns to feel safe at night, assured by being able to grasp onto something dependable when sleeping alone. As we journey into this next year around the sun, I wonder if we are also present to all the intangible yet equally important gifts we give each other all the time. For as much as we give physical objects, we also gift to one another every time we interact with another human being. Whether or not you believe that the very image of God is present in every life, every time we interact with another person we gift; we communicate our understanding of them and it directly engages with their own self-perceptions. All the ways we engage with one another are our behavioral gifts demonstrating how important we see another person’s life to be. As you ponder how you want to live your life in 2025, I invite you to remember that unlike a material good, your interactions cannot be taken back.

This Thanksgiving I had the rare opportunity to celebrate the holiday with my family back in Washington, D.C. Once there, there were two things I couldn’t miss: the Smithsonian exhibit on Impressionism and the Winter Holiday Market. Nestled in front of the National Portrait Gallery are over 30 vendors of various creative arts, from watercolor cityscapes and photography to the ‘all things smores’ food vendor. It should have been heaven and if it had been a Hallmark movie it would have been perfect. Sadly, real life is nothing like a Hallmark movie and it was chaos. I didn’t notice it in the moment but once I was free from the mayhem and able to reflect, I realized even crammed all together everyone just seemed to look past each other as they bobbed and weaved to make their ways through. The whole experience made me wonder, why is it so easy to forget a person’s humanity in a crowd. Whether you’re at the giant Holiday Market in Chicago, the Macys in Albany, or just browsing Northshire Bookstore during busy tourist days, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and swallowed up by the sheer volume of people. I can’t imagine it’s that enjoyable for the employees either. I remember working at a café, and sure I loved busy times because the day would just fly by, but at a certain point you lose yourself in the mayhem. If holiday markets are supposed to scratch that itch for festive joy and boutique craftiness while buying gifts for others, the social angst of being squished between shopped certainly ruins that experience. Why am I making such a big deal about it? Because shopping at holiday markets perfectly illustrates the Dr. Jekeil & Mr. Hyde parts of the human psyche. You don’t have to be anthropologist or clinical psychologist to recognize that there is genuine enjoyment in buying a gift for someone that you know they’ll love. It feels good to bring joy to others. But don’t get in a person’s way on their path to do it less you get squished and moshed in the process. When you’re out holiday shopping this year, do you look at the vast crowds of people you walk past? Do you take in the beauty that is the communal experience of the dozens—if not hundreds—of people all around you also on a journey to give and gift for others in their lives? Or do you tune them out as just another obstacle to get through? Do you forget that all those lives hurrying around you are also caring and loving souls? I fully confess my own guilt in perpetuating this sin for which we all succumb. At the DC Holiday Market I just couldn’t wait to get past all the people cramming their ways through the crowd. But whether you’re a person connected to a faith community or not, we humans are a communal people who together can be an unstoppable force for good in the world. When we stop seeing the humanity in the crowd, we inch closer and closer to losing the best part of ourselves. Whether you get 50% off, 30% off, or pay full price for your holiday gifts this year, I hope you remember just how uniquely precious you are and how uniquely precious those people in your way are too.