Giving is one of the oldest gifts of the heart. Children know this instinctively: a crooked angel, a scribbled picture, a treasure from a pocket. They hand it to you with full sincerity, never imagining that what they have really given is themselves.

And as every wise child somehow knows, the gift of yourself is the most precious gift of all. In a world overflowing with “stuff,” perhaps the most meaningful offering is time... and an open heart.

I sometimes think about the stories I wish I had saved, those everyday memories that now live only in feelings. In this blessed digital age, how easy it would be to spend a single afternoon preserving a story or a photo so that those moments can live on.

A small moment.

I wish I had asked my Mother so many things, like why she chose red as the color of her tree ornaments. I have an idea why, but I wish I had her words.

If I could, I would ask my Dad about his favorite Christmas and the best gift he ever received. I can still hear him singing carols with Dean Martin–level enthusiasm, full-throated and full-hearted. I wish I had a photo of his face mid-chorus.

I would ask my Grandma Dorothy why she first began to crochet, what her first piece was, and what she did with it. I would ask Grandma Emily about the secret ingredient that made her meatloaf taste so delicious. And I would ask Grandpa Reynolds if it was a coincidence that he bought a new car and gave me his “old” one within weeks of my getting my driver’s license...

Questions. We all carry them in our hearts. Maybe this year, choose to offer yourself and your family the blessing of a preserved memory. One story shared. One light passed on.

Is there any gift more filled with love?