Among the very first things I was taught by my parents when I was in grade one was how to wrap the school books. We could not afford the plastic wrapper, so my parents made do with the brown/grease paper. I didn’t know how lucky I was until I saw some other kids’ book wrapper, which was old newspapers. I still felt bad for many years for not getting plastic wrappers, but I learned to be grateful.
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Today, I finally forced Monchies to start wrapping their own school books, instead of me doing it — Kitreena is already going to grade seven, Edrick to grade five. We got 43 books wrapped under two hours, with me doing most of them, as eye-rollingly expected. I wasn’t overly pleased with the neatness, but I learned to let go.
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Kitreena asked me about my experience wrapping school books during my tender years knowing how strict my dad was. “What if you didn’t get it right, Mom?” It took me a while to answer her. Little did I expect that the question would trigger some bitter-sweet memories.
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I remember how my dad ripped off and crumpled the wrap of one thick Maths text book because I did not do it properly. It wasn’t easy for a little kid to wrap an inch-thick book without any guide, and I remember being angry at my dad. He then showed me how to do it while I was busy holding back my tears. “Wrap it like a gift! You are lucky to get text books, I never had a book when I went to school! I had to borrow and sometimes steal! Wrap it like a gift!” And so, I learned to wrap it like a gift.
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Today, I learned to teach my children to wrap it like a gift, almost like the way my dad did it. Probably a little better… we now have plastic wrappers and I didn’t have to rip or crumple any. I embraced my anger as a child when my book-wrapper was ripped and crumpled in a bitter-sweet lesson to be thankful.
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I learned to love books.
And that, to wrap it up, is the best lesson and gift my dad has given me. Ever!
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Questa è Enida 
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