Graceland.

I love to do things for people, l don't even have to know them well. If, for instance, someone mentions that they would really like a particular item and I happen to find one in my travels through yard sales, flea markets, and secondhand shops, I'll pick it up for diem. If they like a particular food, I might cook it for them the next time I see them. If they are troubled with an illness or health problem, I'll clip articles I come across and give them to them. It's fun, and it gives me a good feeling.

But, accepting kindness from other people ... well, that's a whole other ball of wax. Recently I was forced to accept a kindness from someone, and my struggle with it taught me one thing of great importance. It's definitely better (or at least easier) to give than to receive, but in order to give, someone must receive. And if you're doing the receiving, it's best to be gracious about it

The road to this realization was long and somewhat humiliating. It began on a trip to Canada. I was going to a meeting and traveled there with friends. We planned to stop at an ATM and get some Canadian money, because after the meeting everyone was going out to dinner. But we never stopped, and I found myself at the restaurant with no Canadian money. A friend offered to put my tab on his bill, and I could pay him back in American money. When he got the bill I asked how much my portion was, but he put me off and said we'd deal with it later. I forgot about it later until I was driving home, at which point 1 could not return.

Maybe you're thinking this was no big deal, but to me it was huge. I knew my friend wouldn't be home until the next evening, and as soon as I reasonably could, I called to make arrangements to mail him a check. But he put me off. It was no big deal, he assured me. We'd take care of it the next time we met. I hung up the phone, completely at loose ends. And that's when I realized that receiving a kindness was a burden I wasn't prepared to bear.

Some people just naturally accept gifts with graciousness and ease. Others fight, make excuses, and object until you're ready to snatch your offering back from their reluctant hands and donate it to charity. I fall into the latter category. The trouble, I think, is that we feel we don't deserve something so nice. But this self-effacement benefits no one, least of all the giver. It's like getting a slap across the face instead of a sincere thank-you.

Imagine what would happen, at Christmas, say, if everyone wanted to give gifts and no one wanted to receive them. Anarchy! And it would be bad enough if this attitude were confined to small presents and gestures, but it tends to cover any gift, both large and small. The consequences could be staggering. If we view ourselves as not worthy to receive a monogrammed towel set or a hoot-owl shoehorn, how, then, could we possibly accept a gift such as salvation? mercy? forgiveness? If God loves a cheerful giver, think how much more He must value a gracious receiver.

Eventually I arranged a barter with the friend who'd paid for my dinner. With myself, I made a reluctant peace as far as being the recipient of gifts is concerned. There are an infinite number of ways you can give a gift, but only one good way to receive one--with thanks and a smile.

This holiday season, Celeste perrino Walker will be receiving gifts (and giving them, too) in her hometown of Rutland, Vermont