Had lunch today with, I think, quite possibly one of the sweetest women in the world. We get together once a month or so for lunch or tea or long walks down Central Park West or dinners in the East Village or at our respective apartments with our respective partners. Every time she brings me some little thing so thoughtful, so kind, that it makes me smile for days afterward: a rose quartz stone for slipping beneath my pillow to bring peace; a tin of peanut butter ginger candies; a special boxwood tea light to burn on New Year's Day; a hand made birthday card in my favorite shade of orange and her ever present purple.
The feeling is mutual, though I am not as adept at these small tokens of affection. I have to work a little harder, and yet more than for anyone else, I am often coming across things I would love to give her: a tub of honey-orange scented lotion; a felted purple flower; a sparkly purple mermaid scarf; others I have stumbled across and been excited about and then forgotten.
I love this reciprocity, and look forward to our Christmas exchanges and these offerings of small gifts and delicious treats almost every time we get together. It's a funny thing, and lovely, and cherished.