You can’t see it, but my son’s gift is there – a map of Massachusetts with all the public libraries of the day inked in their locations. It’s beautifully done, with lovely script and depictions of each building; it’s a testament to architecture and the communal commitment to education and literacy a hundred or so years back. But it’s not framed yet, so all you can see of it is the very top of a cardboard cylinder and its plastic cap.

There’s a perfectly good reason why it’s still in the cylinder: I’ve moved three times in the last two years. I didn’t want it to get lost or broken, or put extra holes in walls I would soon leave. But I’ve settled into the new home and there are plenty of places to hang this thoughtful, beautiful gift. It’s time to take it into the local frame shop and get it on display. If I don’t tend to this soon, there’s a danger that it might never make it out of its container.

That glimpse of a lid and a cardboard tube is a reminder that a gift that remains unopened or unused isn’t really a gift I’ve accepted. It’s a missed opportunity to catch a glimpse of something beautiful, and to remember the person who gave it as an offering of love and generosity. I don’t want to look back on life and find it full of unopened cylinders; I want a life of gifts and their stories on full display. It’s high time I hang it up.