What gift do you give to the perfect daughter?

It is hard for me to believe that my daughter's birthday is this coming Sunday. She is past the age where I can buy the latest toy to make her happy.

Now I buy toys for her children. I could always get her another orchid. She raises orchids the way my mother grows violets - with ease. Me, I kill both kinds of plants. Succulents that don't mind prolonged drought and the occasional freezing temperatures do well at my house.

I can't buy the things she really wants. Like any mother, she wants her children to be safe and happy. The incident where her daughter, Emma, was bitten by a dog while at her (Emma's) father's place just goes to show that we can't protect our children when they are out of our care. Luckily, Emma is fine except for a scar or two.

I can't provide an end to her divorce which seems to be going for a world record for the longest time it takes to get through the court system.

It is a shame that her marriage had to end but some things just weren't meant to be.

I can't find a buyer for her house so she can sell it and find a cheaper place to live.

I can't live close enough to babysit or provide a hug when she needs it. I can't even bake cookies for her because I have never mastered the art of packing so that they don't end up as crumbs by the time they reach her door.

What I can do is listen. The telephone is one of the modern inventions that I rely on and am eternally grateful for. Through the phone line I learn that Emma has caught her first fish - and was not impressed with it. Through the phone lines I hear baby Jacob laughing as he is bounced on his mother's knee. Through the phone lines I learn that Emma is tickled to have her very own "Bubba."

Through the phone lines I hear a grown woman who still needs her mother.

I confess to doing the same thing to my own mother. I call her and unload my problems in her ear.

That is part of what mothers do. We listen. We listen to what is said and also to what is unsaid. We listen with our hearts as much as with our ears.

This year when I shop for presents for her birthday I will buy clothes or shoes, plants or books. I will pick up some little trinket that I think will make her smile. If I could send her a basket of strawberries and have them survive, I would. She has always liked strawberries.

Most of all I will send her my love. She is my only child and I brag about her too much. I'm sure your children are just as precious to you. If they aren't, then I feel sorry for both of you.

The best birthday present one can receive is the present of acceptance. In my eyes my daughter is perfect. I accept her just as she is.

If we could all accept each other just as we are, imperfections and all, maybe, just maybe, this world would be a more peaceful place. Until that time comes, I will be searching the stores for a birthday present suitable for a perfect daughter who has become a perfect mother.[[In-content Ad]]