The Gifted

 

The significant other and I had an invite for dinner from another couple. It was the first time we were visiting their home, and thought we should carry something with us to gift them. After much dilly-dallying and scratching our heads we found something we agreed on, ordered and got it in the nick of time. Now, the gift needed wrapping too. I set about doing it, and surprisingly did a decent job of it - a first of sorts! It reminded me of my umpteen failures with gift wrapping - and one particular incident that happened in the presence of a close friend that has stayed fresh in the mind.  

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It was a gift I’d bought for my niece, and I was wrestling with the paper, struggling to pack it decently. It was already the second sheet, the first having crumpled and torn. My friend, who was watching my efforts with a smile, asked me to move aside and took over the task.

In no time, the gift was transformed. It was a crisp, clean cube, looking like a professional boutique job. He was always relentlessly meticulous. Even when he'd drop into my office, he'd set my disarrayed desk in order—straightening stacks, aligning pencils. He would even go to the extent of cleaning my spectacles, which were invariably greasy, smudged, and utterly dirty.

I laughed as he finished packing, and said, "If I were living in ancient times, I would have struggled to survive and perished soon."

"Why do you think so?"

"Look at me! I have zero survival skills. I’d not have hunted because I can’t see blood. I’d have killed an entire field of plants trying to grow them. No artistic or carpentry skills. How would I have ever eked out a living?"

"Well, if you were in ancient society, you’d have been a shaman of the tribe," he smiled. “You know you have a way with your words”.  

My face lit up. “Oh yeah, I can totally see it. Trying to cure people of their blind beliefs, or their mental troubles!" I said excitedly.

"Or giving them some new ones," my friend added, totally deflating me.