I woke up to quiet this morning at a friend’s house after a wonderfully peaceful evening – just the two of us in her home that feels like mine. We didn’t exchange gifts, but as always, we exchanged stories. We always find so much to talk about. I left after coffee, so thankful the stories she and I share and our storied lives that you just couldn’t make up. Now I’m sitting quietly by a fire on Christmas day – a day off from the shop. Some might call writing this blog story “work,” but I don’t think of it that way. I’m cherishing this time to write. I write things down because I want to remember them. I want to remember these stories and these days at JOY. So, in the spirit that stories are gifts to be shared, here are just a few that I adore from the past week to ten days. I’m smiling imagining little pink JOY bags and packages under your trees nestled in with all that traditional Christmas wrapping paper. Some of these stories are making me laugh and some of them are making me cry. All of them…well…you just can’t make this stuff up. Such gifts, these stories are. Thank you.
I’m thinking about the one guy who came in and said, “Help me out, I’m looking for something she can open in front of the kids, and then something else she can open when it’s just the two of us. You got anything like that?”
I’m thinking about the father and son who came in yesterday afternoon. The boy picked out some pretty soaps for his Mom and I heard the father say, “…and look…they even do gift wrapping here…I recommend shopping exclusively at stores that wrap.” When I thanked the father for bringing his son to the shop to shop for Mom, he said, “Coming in here was his idea…,” pointing to his son who I’d guess is around 10, “…that fact that you gift wrap is a bonus.”
I’m thinking about a tree that has several pink JOY bags under it for a Mom and her two daughters. Mom and one daughter came in early one day, had fittings, and bought some bras that they asked to be gift wrapped as their Christmas presents. They spent a few hours around town and then came back to the shop with the other daughter, who they had called on the phone and said, “You gotta come to this place.” She drove an hour to get to the shop. We wrapped some bras up for her too.
I’m thinking about the guy in soiled carhartts, who looked like he worked hard that day. It was one of those rainy, miserable days we had earlier in the week. He looked exhausted. He told us that he had “X” amount of dollars in his pocket and that was all. He asked if we could help him find something pretty for his wife for that amount of money. “I wish it could be more, but it’s all I have… and I want to get her something here…”
I’m thinking of a gentleman I introduced myself to and thanked for coming in. He picked out three of the most lovely and popular pajama sets we have for his wife. I asked him how he found out about us and he told me that he and his wife went to visit a friend who is “not doing well.” The woman was in bed and was wearing a nightgown and robe that came from the shop, “She looked and felt beautiful,” he said, “I wanted to come in here to shop because of that.” I thanked him for giving me the gift of that story. What a gift.
These things that happen in the shop are beyond anything I could have imagined…and believe me…I imagine some really amazing things. So many stories. So many gifts. So much to share. So much to be thankful for. So much to love…
“There is magic to be found in history.” – Howard Coffin
Magically with you this Christmas,
Joy
