I am a planner.  Anything that happens out of my specifically scheduled day or week can throw me off in a nano-second.  I don't remember when I became this way, but as far back as my memory will take me, I loved paper and writing utensils and school supplies and office stuff.  I made lists and notes and wrote letters to anyone I had an address for.

One of my favorite things to do in the Summer was visit my aunt.  She worked at the doctor's office and absolutely loved when I would visit her.  My mom would "go into town" and do whatever it was she was doing, and on the way back home, we would stop by my aunt's office.  Usually we planned it around when the doctor would be out for lunch so that I could go back and visit without that stupid glass window in between us.  I remember that I would go to her desk, over by a big bay window that looked out into the town.  Across the street was a general store and a post office, a furniture store and , if you strained your neck just right, you could see the gas station and the Save-a-lot grocery store.  

We would talk about whatever was on either of our minds that day and I would sit at her desk with her and draw pictures for the lady who sat next to her.  Hmmm....I have no idea what that lady's name was, Sheryl, maybe?  Regardless, I would draw her pictures while she was at lunch and leave them for her to find on her desk when she returned and I had left.  

My favorite part about the whole visit was at the end, when my mom would say it was time to go, because the doctor would be returning soon.  She would head outside and I would try to squeeze just a couple more minutes out of my visit.  My aunt would open her bottom desk drawer (the big fat one where she kept all her important files) and reach into the back half of it.  I knew what was back there and always got excited when she opened that drawer.  She did this every time I visited, every single time, and I still got anxious, like it was something new.  What she pulled out of there was one of those random things that only little kids appreciate, but it was something that we both shared.  

The gift exchange, the "secret", and the wink.  I would hold out my arms, palms up and my aunt would pull out handfuls of promotional notepads and pens from drug reps that visited her office on a daily basis.  But more than the pens, I love that paper!  She had big notepads, little notepads, sticky notepads and hot pink notepads!  I'm pretty sure that I never left with less than 4 and always picked out my favorite pen to go along with them.  

After receiving my new gift, I would wink at my aunt on the way to the door and say bye to all the ladies she worked with who enjoyed watching my goofy little self walk out so happy.  My mom would watch me walk out to the parking lot with a big cheesy smile on my face while she simply shook her head at the whole situation.  I would be occupied for the rest of the afternoon.  At the top of my "fun things I like to do" list, was filling out "while you were out" memos, leaving notes for the "babysitter" (aka my mom) to leave with my dolls, and making lists of things I wanted to do that day.  Sometimes those things were pretend things like, "grocery shopping", you know...while I had a "sitter".  Other things were real things, "organize closet shelf, clean make up table, pick out clothes for tomorrow, start a club".  

It's not like regular notebook paper wouldn't take care of any of those tasks, but something about this paper was special.  It was saved, just for me, and given to me, during every single visit,as a special gift and a little secret.  I'm sure my mom knew exactly what I was doing while she waited outside for an extra 10 minutes for me to pick out my favorite notepads, but because she wasn't in the room...it felt to me like she never saw it coming.  It also felt to me, that my aunt new exactly how I would react every time she gave me that paper.  And she kept saving it, to keep giving it, on purpose.  Some days she would have little plastic drug rep sample bags and would fill them as full as she could before I walked out the door.

I don't know why I thought of this all today, or what on earth anyone reading this will get out of it, but the memory puts a smile on my face and I haven't thought about this particular memory in a long, long time.

I guess today sort of goes along with yesterday.  Paper and random gifts and a smile on my face.  What my aunt did for me, I find myself doing for others.  Okay, I don't collect random notepads to give away (though I do have an embarrassingly large leather tote FULL of them right next to me as I sit here and type this), 

There's more in here than what you can see, but I'm a good packer. ;)

but I give other things away.  What I give away most is my clothing.  And I always try to give it away with purpose.  I don't think I've ever taken my clothes to Goodwill or the Salvation Army.  Sure, those places have purpose, but I like the see the result of my giving, first-hand.  The look on someone's face when they receive a bag full of new things that they love, is priceless.  

Right now I have one young girl that I hand all my clothes down to and every time she comes over to pick them up, I get excited to see the look on her face as she tries to hold in her excitement and act "mature" about the whole thing.  This girl is twice as old, receiving my clothes, as I was receiving those silly pads of paper...otherwise, I may have contained myself a little more.  But, who needs to contain joy, anyway?  Joy can spread like a wildfire.

Do you have a memory of receiving something as a child that still makes you smile?

Do you enjoy doing something specific to see the joy that it brings to someone else?