Chucking It

I spent part of Labor Day afternoon with Angry White Nephew, who is not only related to me by blood but who is also one of my best buddies. Autumn is nearly upon us, and with the weather still warm but yet also gradually cooling down a few degrees here and there, we made another venture over to the Splash Park in Kaysville for some fun in the sun.

Afterward, we went over to one of the local greasy spoons to pick up some ice cream, like you do when you're an amazing uncle like the Angry White Loner is . . . ladies. *wink wink*

AWN said that he was craving something Oreo-flavored, and that sounded good to me, too. So, we ordered a large shake, presumably for the two of us to share. I knew he wouldn't get through it all, and I figured I would help him finish when he got tired of eating what his little tummy could. All of this was implied, at the time, which is probably my fault in the first place.

As the time came for us to leave, I dumped the contents of our tray, napkins and such, into the trash can and turned around to see that AWN was standing by another trash can, also empty handed. He had chucked the contents he was carrying into the trash. In other words, the still mostly full milkshake.

After taking four or five bites out of it, he had chucked the whole thing. "I didn't want to eat any more," he explained.

Granted, AWN is just six years old and is in the first grade. He doesn't yet understand too much about the value of money nor the reasons why we don't waste food (first-world problems, huh?). We could have very easily also taken it home and put it into his freezer for him to finish later had he not let me help him finish it up. Either choice would have been acceptable, I told him.

I'm not angry about The Chucking, though I tried to calmly explain to him on the way home why we don't throw away that much food. I don't love the kid any less, and I don't hold grudges about things that insignificant.

The English literature minor in me, of course, has, in the three days since, read a little bit more into the Chucking incident. Like when we give a family member or a friend or a co-worker or a member of our neighborhood or ward or even a significant other something that we feel is of great worth because we want to share it, they then take a few bites and realize they don't like it, and they chuck it.

These "milkshakes" we give them might be another kind of food but might also be such things as our time; cooking, cleaning, or a number of other household chores; a book, TV show, movie, even a YouTube clip we think is worth sharing; a simple act of service; going out of our way to do something nice or complimentary; and, in the dating world, giving our very hearts and souls to someone . . . only to see them tossed away nonchalantly as a thing of little or no value to the person receiving it.

Sadly, a Chucking of one sort or another of the type mentioned above, or any number of other possibilities, probably happens to each of us far more than we'd prefer it. It's disappointing, and sometimes it can be downright heartbreaking. Some would respond by simply refusing to give anymore if that is that sad result of giving.

I understand that. I don't think anyone would blame someone who believes that no good deed goes unpunished this way.

Nevertheless, I'm still of the opinion that giving is good. That the people who receive what we offer with gratitude, and who give something of their own in return, are the people worth hanging onto and not letting go of. We may grow a little wiser and/or a little more selective, over time, about what we give out and whom we give it to, but it's still a great choice to make: to give.

Especially to AWN. Because we have an understanding now.

Giving and Receiving

I attended a very thought-provoking institute class last night. Our discussion revolved around the idea of giving vs. receiving. It's a timely topic because, well, I think it relates directly to the spirit of the Christmas season in which we now find ourselves.

For me, the pendulum has swung both ways on giving and receiving over the years. Hopefully, experience and time have taught me a few things about it.

When I was growing up, Christmas, to me, was all about receiving. I eagerly awaited the arrival of the JC Penney catalogue, devouring the pages of the toy section and wishing for the newest and most popular LEGO, He-Man, G.I. Joe, Voltron, and Transformers sets, then spending many sleepless nights and restless days each December, awaiting Santa's arrival and (admittedly) also trying to spy on my mom's secret cache of presents, usually hidden somewhere in the basement.

Fortunately, it was a phase I grew out of as the years passed. When I became an adult—notice that I do not use the phrase "grew up," as I may be in that process for many years yet—Christmas shifted to being all about giving rather than receiving. My mission certainly helped a lot with that, as I had the blessing and the privilege of giving two years of my life to the full-time service of my fellow man. Since that time, it's certainly still nice and appreciated to get gifts from family members and friends, to be sure, but perhaps my favorite thing about the holiday now is observing the looks on my nieces' and nephews' faces as they open their gifts.

In a very real sense, the whole process has gone full circle.

As far as giving and receiving goes for all other kinds of gifts, our teacher correctly pointed out, I think, that it is both blessed to give and to receive. Who among us hasn't prayed about and sacrificed for and labored for a present that, to you, was a significant gesture of love from the bottom of your heart, only to be disappointed and heartbroken when the person the gift was intended for either didn't accept it or treated it as a thing of naught? I'm sure we all have at one point or another.

Many dating experiences certainly apply here. But that is a post for another day.

In other words, a gift both has to be given and received, and it is as much of a virtue to receive a gift as it is to give one. Such is the case with the Atonement of Jesus Christ, which cost the best blood of the history of humankind—the greatest gift ever given, along with the gift of life itself and the bestowal of free agency. Each of us has to make the individual decision whether or not to receive this gift.

At any rate, that's what I got out of it. Now, I must be off. I suddenly have a hankering to dig out my old Optimus Prime action figure.