There's a nervous catch in my throat, a slight buzzing sensation that starts every year during the week of Thanksgiving and sticks with me until about Dec. 26. It's rooted in a fear that the holiday gifts I select won't delight their recipients, the brief notes in my Christmas cards will either bore or not contain enough juicy details to suit friends and relatives, the English toffee I make will somehow turn out wrong and my voice will be off key if I attempt to croak out a carol in public. This is the season when my self-confidence seems to take a vacation, and I'm convinced my many imperfections are visible to all who care to spend a nanosecond giving them any thought.
In truth it's that first fear mentioned above, of not choosing just the right present for someone (and in time for the holiday!) that terrorizes me the most every December. What can be more satisfying than seeing eyes light up and a smile broaden when an item you have selected especially for its recipient is a hit? And how disappointed do you feel if it doesn't seem appreciated and gets set aside a little too abruptly for your tender sensibilities? It would be so great if everyone I knew could pretend that any gift they receive from me is the most perfect one they've ever laid eyes on, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Sometimes I feel a little bad that I've let them down.
