The Red Feather

When I was a kid, my mother hid my gifts every Christmas, but I always found them. I was like a truffle-hunting pig, rooting them from locked suitcases and dusty cupboards, foraging for them in the attic. This year, I found nothing.

“Open your palm and close your eyes,” said my husband, on the night before Christmas Eve.

I splayed my hand and squeezed my eyelids, figuring the gift might be heavy, like pottery or books, so I clenched my muscles. I felt a weightless tickle and hoped it was diamond earrings wrapped in fluffy tissue.

“Okay. You can open your eyes.”

A red feather lay before me. My husband had done this with a strip of red licorice, a pretty rock or seashell, a chocolate kiss. “That’s not funny,” I said.

That night, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I pretended to be asleep.

The next morning, I found the red feather in the utensil drawer. I grabbed a knife and slammed the drawer shut. Opening the fridge, I noticed a bowl of dirt—or sand beside the milk. My husband entered the kitchen with bare feet, yawned in the annoying way he does, like a tired dog, and hugged me from behind. I didn’t say anything about the feather or the fridge.

I wrapped my husband’s presents and placed them under the tree: a goofy tie with clowns I found online, some chocolates from his favorite store, and a sparkly new phone. I put activated charcoal pills (the only kind I had) in his stocking in case I received more feathers.

There was only one gift under the tree for me. When I stood to adjust a few ornaments that were hanging backward, I noticed a tacky plastic palm frond projecting from the middle branches. Usually, I would laugh. But the lack of gifts made me feel gloomy.

After a candlelight dinner, we opened our gifts. I glanced at the stockings, then handed my husband his packages. He opened them and laughed, wrapping the tie around his head. I eyeballed my single package, then the stockings. Would I need to give him his stocking full of charcoal pills?

“Your turn,” he said.

I grabbed the gift with a red feather taped to the top instead of a bow, hoping for a tennis braclet that would blind the dead. I opened the flaps, burrowing into the tissue paper, and discovered an empty coconut and a photo of a Scarlet Macaw.

“We’re going to Costa Rica!” he exclaimed.

I ran to the fireplace, tearing my husband’s stocking from the mantel, and threw it into the fire.

***

I have a new book launching in 2026 with Dreamsphere Books! Yay! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! The best gift you can give me is a rave, rating, or review on Amazon!

“I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver.” ~ Maya Angelou

The Levitation Game is made in America! Ha!

P.S. Christmas is the most heartwarming but wasteful time of the year.

1. Use beautiful Christmas fabric to wrap gifts and reuse it over and over. I haven’t done this, but you can use sticks, pinecones, leaves or dried flowers for a natural bow. Get creative!
2. Repurpose brown paper bags for gift wrap. I like to glue a fuzzy red yarn puff or ball in the center of any size bag and then draw a smiley face, using the ball for a nose. But any Christmas themed bag is reusable.
3. Use the comics from the newspaper to wrap gifts.
4. Recycle and reuse! I use last year’s greeting cards to tag my gifts. Use a zigzag pair of scissors to cut the cards into tags. My tree is like a travel log of memories, and I’ve made almost all of my ornaments.

And don’t forget to eat your leftovers or repurpose them! I’ll post my kitchen and household tips in my new year’s post.