I was sitting in an airport when a woman behind me asked, "What's the best gift you've ever got?" I closed the magazine I'd paid too much for and listened for an answer. "You mean like, the best birthday present?" a young man said, "Probably the gold coin I got for graduation."
I threw my magazine onto a neighboring chair and thought about the question. What's the best gift I've ever got? Good health aside, when it comes to material objects, for me the answer is easy. It was a high school graduation present, gift-wrapped and hand-delivered by my grandfather. He handed it to me and said, "Stay close to the land. Don't be afraid to dig in and get a little dirt on you."
That fall, I went off to college and that shiny new green-handled spade with the silver blade (刀刃) hung untouched on the wall in my parents' garage. A few years later, I had my own family and that graduation spade made its way from my folks5 garage into my own. I dug gardens, planted trees, roses and bushes. The spade was nothing but a tool.
The years rolled by. The spade has lost some of its color and I've added some gray, but I still dig hard into the earth, more often than ever. It's more than a trusted workout partner. It's a reminder of my family, one proudly rooted in agriculture. It's a useful tool with a memorable message about staying close to the earth. Priceless!
A few months from now, my daughter will finish graduate school, and she has already had a job waiting in another city. She's knowledge-rich but cash-poor, and though she's expecting nothing from me, I have something valuable to give her before she moves away. It'll be wrapped of course, and it'll be worth the weight in gold.
