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I’ve been thinking about gifts for a while. Since my husband gave me this amazing copper cooling tray for Christmas, actually. Because when he gave it to me, it wasn’t a cooling tray at all.

My husband and my youngest son created this kitchen-art out of plumbing material – copper pipe – for me. Out there is the cold garage they took the most humble of materials, meant for the most humble of uses, and they made this beautiful thing.

It came in a huge box, awkwardly man-wrapped, and when I opened it on Christmas morning I had to ask its name. I knew it had a story, but I didn’t know what it was. Turns out it was intended to be a bathroom tray, a place for shampoos and lotions and such but what I really wanted, I told my husband, was to put it on my kitchen table and to use it every day to hold the hot loaves of bread and the supper casseroles.

So that’s what it became. A gift given for one purpose but destined for another.

A story can always change its mind, you see.

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