Gifts for Madeline Grace

Dear Reader ,

I told my friend I was going to enter a Fiskars competition, and she wanted to know what my pet-lacking self planned to do with a whole bunch of cat food. “I’d donate it, of course. But that’s besides the point. Fiskars are a brand of scissors.” Much laughter ensued. I’ve found myself spreading awareness about my favorite brand of scissors ever since. Well played, marketing team. A handful of young adults in Indiana know more now than ever before about Fiskars scissors. Honestly, I didn’t even know that they were thing that people didn’t know about. I’ve taken my Fiskars-informed life for granted. I’ve simply always known that any other brand of scissors won’t quite ‘cut it’. I suppose we have my “top-of-the-line”-loving-father to thank. And now, I’ve also paid ten dollars to sign up for this whole Vocal+ thing so that I could enter this competition. Twenty points for marketing.

I started out writing this letter thinking I wanted to impress you. “Let me razzle-dazzle you and sweep you off of your feet and convince you that I am important and that I matter.” If I’m being honest , I think a part of me still does lean that way and still does want that. “If they think I’m important, then surely it must be true!” “If they think what I do matters, then I have permission to keep doing it.” But of course , surrendering one’s inherent dignity to a team of judges or your daily companions is often far less obvious than that. It’s more subconscious than conscious. More of a trickle than a flood. Oh, we are so quick to sell our souls and give away our worth , if only by a million nearly imperceptible ways...giving away slivers at a time: bending our wills and betraying our hearts and crossing our own boundaries for the approval and nods and smiles ...and money...of others. Phew. People would do a lot for money. People are willing to lose a lot to gain extra zeros at the end of numbers on their bank statements. People would do a lot to be chosen. I feel like a little kid waiting in gym class as we pick dodgeball teams. Pick me! Pick me! I matter more if you choose me sooner and I matter less if you choose me later, and I don’t even want to speak about what it might mean if you do not choose me at all. Really though, it’s not a bad desire to want to be seen and known and loved and appreciated and noticed. But I’d really like to be first in line to do that for myself. So here goes. Dear heart, I see you. I know you. I love you. I appreciate you. And I notice you. If no one else does, know that I always do and I always will. And the Creator of all that is good and beautiful does, too.

Throughout my life , I’ve enjoyed reading the biographies of the saints. The thing I love most about the saints is the feeling I get when I think about how many different ones there are. It’s a feeling of having permission to be me. Permission to be me and to do a damn good job of it. Permission to be me and to trust that it matters. Permission to love what I love and learn about my heart’s desires and to inch, step, walk , run, or waltz into places of freedom in my life. Permission to discover the boundaries of who I am... of what is my territory and what isn’t.. of who I want to be and who I don’t want to be... of what makes me fully alive and what darkens and deadens my soul. Ah yes, my soul. One of my most favorite words has to do with the soul : magnanimity. It means “greatness of soul.” It’s not how great you or I think a soul is , but a true inherent greatness that emanates and shines its light and speaks for itself. When I think about this word, I find myself asking...What expands me and what shrinks me? …What calls forth greatness from my soul and what makes my soul small? And then, I find myself traversing the exciting, though sometimes lonely, path of following that internal guide. It’s wild to think that I am a unique expression of goodness and love and beauty that has not existed before and will not exist on earth after. Each saint was also a unique unrepeated expression of goodness and love and beauty. Each saint was just a person who lived in a different place , with a different job, a different community, and a different life. Each saint spent part of his or her life living fully alive.

I’d like to give you some examples of different personalities of the saints. Joan of Arc literally fought for her values and led France into battle on horseback. Augustine partied as much as he knew how before becoming a humble shepherd of souls in Italy. Mother Theresa didn’t know her vocation until her 40’s and then cared for people suffering on the streets of India. And Bakhita was a slave who was repeatedly tortured and sold in Sudan and, after gaining freedom, took up missionary efforts and lived a life helping others. One of my favorite saints is Therese. Therese saw the value and the cumulative effect of consistent, repeated, little acts of love to those in her daily life. She lived with such greatness of soul that made the seemingly smallest of actions have the biggest of ripples. When I read about Saint Therese, I became convinced that not only what I do.. but particularly who I am… really matters. Perhaps simplicity is not as simple as it seems, after all.

And now, I will transition to myself and eventually to my love of crafting. My name is Tina. Sometimes Miss Tina. Sometimes Aunt Tina or sometimes even Tina bo bina. I live in a small town in Indiana. I’m in my 30’s. I am a teacher. My first niece, Madeline Grace, was born in 2009, and I got asked to be her godmother. I was excited by the opportunity and couldn’t wait to shower her with my love. Once she was born, I was tossed into the new world of buying gifts for kids. Birthdays. Christmas. Etc. I also quickly realized how saturated the market was with … stuff. Knick knacks and gadgets and gizmos a plenty. You can buy whatever you want online: LED lights for the inside of your toilet, pool rafts designed to look like chocolate donuts with sprinkles , gaming apps, etc. Now..don’t get me wrong… I love some good knick knacks as much as the next person. But, I wanted to find a way to give gifts with meaning. I wanted to show my love and attention for dear Madeline , but I didn’t want to be part of the accumulation of “stuff”. I’m no Marie Kondo, but I wanted to make her a thing that couldn’t be bought, with a personalization that couldn’t be fabricated or deeply faked. A gift that says “I see you. I know you. I care about you. You matter. You are important.” Not who I want you to be, but who you are.

One of the things I love most about crafting is creating something out of nothing. Creating something no one has ever created before. Getting so lost in the process that I’m just as curious what the final product will look like as any observer would be. Time takes a back seat as my brain and soul enter another realm of sorts. My body calms down out of its usual hyper vigilance. No one can tell me I’m doing it wrong as I am making something out of nothing. I decided I would “craft” my gifts for Madeline. I decided I would make her an annual scrapbook. Yes... here, of course, is where I mention the Fiskars scissors. I have been scrapbooking since the first grade, and I just don’t mess around with other scissors. I chose to enter this competition because I truly support and use the product. I’m sure some other company out there has made scissors that also work, but I certainly have not found them. I really don’t even know why people ever buy the other brands. Why own scissors that don’t do what scissors are supposed to do?

Anyway…. I’m not famous. I don’t know any famous people. I’m assuming you don’t know me and most people probably never will. I’m an introvert. I’m not an influencer. I don’t have many followers. But I do have my own little corner of the world, even if it’s really tiny. My worth is not determined by how many I influence. It’s not determined by how much money I make. It’s not determined by my pleasing you or others. It’s not even determined by what I do. My worth is set. My value is given. I exist. I have life. I was created in love by love for love. The smallness of my corner in life does not determine the size of my impact. Actions have ripples. Can I tell you about the domino effect? It’s a lot more than one block knocking down another, which knocks down another, which knocks down another. Did you know that one domino can knock down another domino that is one and a half times as big as itself? And that next domino can knock down a third domino that is one and a half times as big as the second was. This means that a domino 5 millimeters high and 1 millimeter thick (about half the size of the nail of your pinky finger) can knock down a domino as tall as the empire state building just 29 dominoes later. Twenty-nine. Dominoes. Later. Clearly, Therese was on to something when she saw the value in tiny acts of love. No, I don’t have ‘followers’ in the modern sense. But I do have nieces and nephews. Tiny eyes that look at me , tiny ears that hear me , minds that are influenced by the love that I give. I know that some of my tiny dominoes will reach 29th dominoes.

That first year I made a scrapbook for Madeline, I went to a Cristkindle Market to buy some ornaments. I travelled with a friend via train from Indiana to Chicago. It was blizzarding, and we had all sorts of unexpected adventures along the way to finding the perfect ornament. When I found the ornament, I realized I wanted to get it for Maddie and I wanted to tell her the story of the adventure. I cut and colored and decorated and pasted and designed a whole book about the quest to find the perfect ornament. On Christmas Eve, I read the book to my three-year old niece. “She’s not going to understand,” said some. “She’s too young,” said others. I read it anyway. I read her the tale, and then handed her a present to open. She pulled out the ornament and gave a wide-eyed gasp. “Aunt Tina!” she exclaimed, “The story was real?! This really happened?!” Needless to say, I’ve made her scrapbooks ever since. Each is completely different, and yet all are made from a place of great love.

I try not to take for granted all of the people who have helped me along my own journey … whether directly or indirectly. There have been literal mentors in my life, teachers, coaches, and then there have been people who design things like paper and stickers and scissors and factory workers who help create the products. I am incredibly grateful for companies that care about their products. Fiskars scissors do a damn good job of being scissors. Sure, they are just a tool… just an inanimate object…. but they sure do make a lot of people’s lives easier, and they bring a lot of joy into craft rooms, classrooms, kitchens, etc. Just like the saints … (yes, I’m about to compare scissors to saints)... it’s a joy to think about all the different ways that scissors are helping people around the world. There is an inherent greatness in this product that rises to the challenge of incarnating the ideas of magnanimous souls of the world. These scissors make a difference as they cut through coupons and pizzas and ropes and fabrics and papers and all sorts of things. They might be out making baby blankets or greeting cards or scrapbooks filled with memories or family heirlooms. Scissors have full permission to be scissors, and they matter. They are being used to accomplish necessary tasks and they are being used by artistic souls to create unique expressions of goodness and love and beauty. What an interesting thing to think that among all the different personalities, places, jobs, communities, and lives, there is a common appreciation for a good pair of scissors.

Love,

Tina