UPDATE: Hey, Science backs me up! “You Should Actually Send That Thank-You Note You’ve Been Meaning to Write.”
Here’s what I’m seeing more and more, even among young, solid, sound Christian young people (and young people edging toward middle-age): Christmas is coming, or a birthday, or graduation. I sound them out on what they might like, or ask someone who should know. I research gifts and plot how to pay for them. I might even make something. I scrape together the money, buy the gift, wrap it, send it. And I get no word in reply.
Sometimes I ask, did you get the present I sent? Sometimes packages get lost, or emails bearing gift cards get buried. Usually the answer is, Oh yeah! Sorry, it slipped my mind. Thanks!
Sure; everybody forgets—I have forgotten to write that note or make that call myself, so I shouldn’t be pointing fingers. But I see my carelessness as a fault, whereas I’m not sure everybody does.
My question is, when something occupies my mind for a significant period, and takes an investment in time and money and (sometimes) presentation—doesn’t that deserve a piece of the recipient’s mind, a piece that doesn’t slip? Do I deserve thanks?
My Calvinist daemon shakes its head no; dangerous territory, to think I deserve anything. My natural self urges yes. Maybe there’s a compromise: I don’t deserve thanks. But . . .
Am I owed it? Like I would be owed a paycheck for contracted work? But gift-giving isn’t contracted; just the opposite. It’s to supposed to be without obligation.
Do I need it? Maybe closer to the truth, but not quite true. I would certainly like to know if the gift arrived, that it didn’t get lost in the mad rush to unwrap presents and that it was (somewhat? a little?) appreciated.
Should I expect it? Well . . . maybe, but expecting anything still sounds like strings attached: I do this for you, you’d better do something in return, even if it’s just a simple “thank you.” Not that we’re playing tit for tat, and don’t you hate it when people feel like they have give you something of equal value whenever you do anything for them? So expectation doesn’t quite fit either.
Could it be that a gift isn’t complete unless it’s received and acknowledged?
Maybe it’s like this: a gift isn’t complete unless it’s received and acknowledged. It’s still a gift, because of the giver, but something needs to come back to the giver for the circle to be closed. Otherwise all the questions are just hanging out there: Did you get it? Do you like it? Can you use it? A work of art is unfulfilled without an audience, an act of mercy must be received—even fixing a drain under the sink is pointless unless the sink is promptly used with gratitude (and the plumber is paid).
“It’s the thought that counts” works both ways.
Yes, we get busy and forgetful. But I wonder if thank-yous are even a thing for younger people—do they want thanks when they give? Or do their lives move too fast for either giving or receiving? If so, their lives move too fast, period.