Summer closure/The profound value of a gift culture

It's been awhile, I noticed, since I posted about gifts. A decade ago, I'd present ideas for occasions like Mother's Day, or suggest that an especially well-priced piece of jewellery would make a great gift.

I still think quite often about gifts, but wasn't the other morning, when I stopped by a coffee shop a few blocks from home where a barista stamps a loyalty card with each purchase; I'd earned enough a free coffee.  The young woman smiled, prepared my latte, and then handed me a plump blueberry scone. "I don't think this is my order", I said. (Lone barista working the morning rush, you could not pay me enough.) She replied, "Yes it is!" 

A gift out of nowhere, from a stranger; this was indeed a sweet moment. 

Another coffee shop used to have a gift card wall; you could buy an extra beverage and leave it for a designated person, with an optional message ("Shauna, t'es ben cute!"), or for anyone who needed one. That stopped during Covid, and never resumed; I wonder why. The board was always dotted with at least three dozen vouchers.

Now, as I close for the summer, I have two wishes: to make these clement days move more slowly, and to focus more on giving the tangible and intangible gifts that tell the recipient, "Happy Birthday" (or Birthweek, an extension I like), "Thank you", or even just "These are pretty good, have one!" 

The thing about a gift is that the actual object may be unwanted, but refusing a gift is fraught. I gave a friend a birthday gift, a handmade glasses case for her readers.  A week later she handed it back saying, "I'm not going to use this, so I'm giving it back." I tried to appreciate her candour, with only mild success.  

I heard my mother saying, when I received a gift that was all wrong for me, "It's the thought that counts." She taught me to think of who might like the unwanted item, and to offer it not as a gift, but to say something like, "Can you help me out here? I have an extra Meccano set."

When the recipient declines a gift, they discount the consideration behind the gesture. There are a few good reasons for declining a gift, the foremost is when there are strings attached, an implied obligation. In such cases, the gift is often disproportional to the relationship. My sister once received a case of Champagne from a much older man interested in her, enough said.

Or the gift may be imbued with negative sentiment. When my then-husband took up with someone else but spent a final forlorn Christmas with me, I gave him a watch that he had coveted. What was I thinking? (He returned it to the store.) Part of the problem was that the watch reeked of an attempt to buy love. Go ahead and roll your eyes; I got some therapy.

At the heart of true gifts is a wish to provide pleasure, support or affirmation.  And so, to fear getting it wrong and therefore reject giving subverts expression. I'll celebrate my friend again, and think I now understand that she would prefer an experience to an object. 

As a result of today's online-saturated life, we are losing strands from the ancient web of human connection to which gifts belong. The strand most visibly eroded is the gift of presence. My birthday is in July; last year, Alyson's invitation to a museum exhibition was a gift of time; there was little monetary value (we both have memberships), but an unhurried afternoon together meant a great deal. She had moved to a city a few hours away, and when here is usually occupied with family commitments.

Back to the scone: it was a fragrant, fresh grace note, given with spontaneous good will. I received it with a zing of pleasure not just from its taste, but from the evidence that Random Acts of Kindness still exist. 

Thank you for reading, and especially for commenting during the Passage's 18th season. (Over the summer closure, I disable comments but can be contacted via email.) What I would give you if I could? A bursting bouquet of peonies.

If you are in Montréal this summer, I'll buy you a coffee—and a scone!

Passage des Perles will reopen on September 15, 2026. Enjoy the summer, with all its delights and gifts.