what to send, and to whom
fourteen things worth sending this December, composed to order and wrapped the way we wrap everything. sorted not by price or by category, but by the person you are thinking of.
for the new mother
the baby will be given everything. she will be given a card. this is the section for the person who has noticed that. skin that changed without asking, hands that are washed forty times a day, a room she will spend more hours in this winter than any other. and one book, for the nightstand, written by two women who had been where she is and took notes.
for the one who says she needs nothing
she means it, and she is wrong. what she needs is something that asks nothing of her. a linen box with a place for the bracelet and the lock of hair, which she will fill without deciding to. a candle she did not choose and will light anyway. something that arrives wrapped, with a card in someone's handwriting, on an afternoon she was not expecting anything.
for the baby, on a first christmas
there will be one photograph from this year that gets framed, and the baby will not remember any of it. so the gift is really for the parents, and for the shelf. books that will be read every December for a decade, one with twenty-four doors in it. a bear that will be in the photograph. a taxi in a hat, hand knit, that will outlast the tree. things that are kept, not things that are outgrown.
for the one who is no longer the baby
the older brother or sister, who has been sharing everything since the summer. an advent calendar in liberty print is twenty-four mornings that are entirely hers. crayons in the same print are the afternoons. small, and about no one but her, which this December is the point.
everything here can be sent on its own, or added to an edit, or composed with a card written by hand. say who it is for in the message box and we will take it from there.
ordered now, it leaves from the middle of October. ordered by the twelfth of December, it leaves in time. after that, we will tell you honestly if we can.