When my husband drove my daughter home from her piano lesson the other day, she came to me with her eyes moist.
Oh no, not again, I thought to myself. It must be one of those episodes again when my must-have-the-last-word teenage daughter could not settle with her disciplinarian daddy.
I sighed and asked, "What's the story?"
When she finished her story, she gave me the best gift any mother could ever receive.
"Remember when Kru On [her piano teacher] asked us to get Christmas presents for orphanage children a few years ago?" she asked.
Of course, I did. When most Buddhist Thais think of donating to orphanage children, we normally think about giving our kids' old dolls, toys and clothes that are still in good condition because our children have so much they could not care less.
When we want to give orphanage children something special, we normally host them for lunch and give them new toys that we bought in a large quantity _ all brand new, but all matching because it's cheaper by the dozen.
Kru On, a devout Catholic, thinks differently. The holiday season is a special season of giving, and the orphanage children we want to give to should not get any hand-me-downs, but real presents.
It should be something they want, something brand new; a present which makes each of them feel like a special individual.
We were given a list of children with names, ages, and their gift wishes.
We chose a little girl, and I remembered how much joy I had shopping for her cute dress, sweater and toys _ just like the time when my daughter was that little girl's age, when Mummy was her most important person in the world.
My daughter continued her story: "The Father who is taking care of the orphanage met Kru On and told her that one girl there never opened the present she received."
She was so happy to have a present of her own and treasured it so much that she wanted to keep it that way.
"Mummy, we never knew that girl was not well. She had HIV. She just died, and that present was still unopened."
I felt a lump in my throat. My girl must have seen something in my eyes before she sprang up to embrace me and patted me on the back, as if she was the mother, not the daughter.
Then she said something I have been telling her since she was little, but which I had long since resigned to probably never hearing spoken myself.
"We take what we have for granted, don't we? But for those who don't have much, those things are really valuable."
I couldn't believe my ears.
"So, we're planning a charity piano concert," she said. "I really want to play. I really want to do something to help these kids."
What is a more valuable gift than knowing your child has her heart in the right place?
It was not only our mother-daughter talk about gifts and taking things for granted that got me into thinking about the season of giving. Recent terrible news about one of my relatives being murdered shook me to the core.
At her funeral, I pondered about how life often shocks us with the unexpected to show us the truth of impermanence, and especially that of our own lives.
Contemplating death is actually one of the meditation methods recommended by the Buddha.
"Too morbid," my daughter said.
"No," I explained. "It reminds us not to take life for granted. It reminds us to do our best to be kind to others each and every day so we won't regret it.
"Giving is not just about giving people things. It's about giving kind words, praise, and a listening ear. And the biggest giving of all is forgiving."
I couldn't help adding: "It's also about not being rude to Daddy, because you're the biggest love of his life."
My 16-year-old gave me a blank stare, then a look that made me feel like the most boring person in the world.
I don't care. Her story about the unopened present makes me know for sure that my words won't just go in one ear and out the other.
So, for parents of teenagers out there, take heart. Continue giving your gift of patience. Don't give up, and Happy Holidays!
Sanitsuda Ekachai is Editorial Pages Editor, Bangkok Post.