The Giving Season

Greetings, gentle readers.
Allow me to sketch a quick tableau of a family Christmas gathering.  The hearth fire is puttering away radiantly, the tree is adorned with all manner of shiny and pretty baubles, the gifts and snacks are heaped high in their own realms, and everyone present is smiling contently with stomachs full of a hearty meal.
But this is Christmas, after all, and Christmas means acquisition.  Gather ye consumer goods while ye may.  It is not long before the carefully wrapped boxes of things are being distributed to the awaiting crowd.  Let's fast forward an hour's time.
There are heaps of presents stacked in corners of the room, organized and readied for transportation, and a couple of toys are making obnoxious noises and worrying the puppy.  One teenage girl surveys her loot - a box.  The other kids got presents.  She got the empty container that might have held a present, but didn't.  Don't get me wrong.  A cardboard box can be thrilling, particularly to a kitten.  However,it looks a bit lacklustre in comparison to the turbo drone aircraft in front of the teenage boy in the centre of the room, or the 3-D virtual reality goggle set his father wields.  The girl smiles bravely.
The girl's father sits across the room.  He has already refused several invitations to sit closer to middle of the congregation.  Whatever reasons he had seem justified as round after round and circuit after circuit of gift recipients are named, and his name is notably absent from the rolls.  Finally, a present is passed over to his corner.  It's a frying pan that is divided into several sections, allowing a person to cook an egg, two rashers, and some hashbrowns simultaneously.  It's a wonderful present for a person who lives alone and has to prepare breakfast for one every morning.  It's a great way to let a person's food feel close to other foods, and not alone and abandoned on the stovetop or in the kitchen.  It's not a good present for a single father.  The subtext reads:  you will never have custody or share your life with another, so get used to feeding yourself.  This is an efficient way to do so.
Before long, the gifts are distributed, the stump of the tree is visible beneath the boughs, and the father quietly excuses himself, takes his bachelor's frying pan, and leaves without much ado.  His daughter heads upstairs to the guest room to play with her empty box.  The other parents play card games over coffee while their children try on their clothing, read their books, and take pictures of their toys with their smartphones.
So, in conclusion, if going to attend a festive gift-giving celebration where there are likely to be second-class citizens, bring a few extra presents that can be quickly addressed on the spot.  It's a small sacrifice to make.  It doesn't upset the more fortunate, and brings a disproportionate amount of joy to the overlooked and ignored.
I never thought that a specific occasion was required to mandate that one person give a gift to another.  If you care for someone, give that person a gift, where it be a peck on the cheek, a line of poetry, an afternoon's worth of housework, or whatever.  It is really disappointing when you realize that you only get gifts from people who feel obligated to go online sometime in November and order something that ticks all of the boxes for an appropriate present, before perfunctorily handing it to you and washing their hands of another odious responsibility.
So after another heartwarming holiday season, it's farewell from me and may authenticity pursue you doggedly for the rest of your days.
Goodnight England and the Colonies,
—mARKUS