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ON A WEDNESDAY MORNING


As I wrap your gift, I have the irrational desire to somehow shield you from the terrible emptiness the holidays can bring. It is an embarrassing truth that a gift can sometimes make us feel grossly misunderstood or overlooked. We don't like the gift, it doesn't fit, it's a bad color. It's too practical, it's not practical enough, we already have one.


What I want to tell you is this: very seldom will you find anything that really matters sitting wrapped under a spruce tree in your house. It is your life’s work to discover the gifts. And they will open for you and open for you. Over time. During and after great travails. When you take a leap. On a Wednesday morning.


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