The Gift Of Kindness

Festive cheer can easily slide into a Christmas challenge, says Karin Brynard. But then there’s the redeeming wisdom of a second childhood.

- Karin Brynard

At my advanced age I suddenly find myself back in toy stores at Christmas time. Not shopping for a grandchild as you would expect but for someone even more advanced in age. My mother.

With time ticking her closer to a hundred each year, she’s been robbed of a lifetime of skills and capabilities. Even most of her memories have gone. Time is a sly old thing, moving with stealth. All of a sudden she’s not sure how the telephone works. Or how to knit. Even the simplest of hobbies, like stringing beads, have absconded with time.

So, I’m in the toddler section of the toy store in town, searching for a Christmas present for Oumoeder. The other oumas are looking at all the newfangled gadgets for little girls, like pink smart watches. And slime. Apparently that’s what little girls love, these days. Heaven forbid.

I think back to the first time I had to buy a Christmas gift for a parent, and how I betrayed her then.