The Mother-in-Laws Wedding Gift: When Its Better to Give Nothing
Emily and James were finally tying the knot. The ceremony was in full swing when the master of ceremonies announced it was time for gifts. The brides parents went first, offering warm congratulations. Then came the grooms mother, Margaret Whitmore, clutching a large box tied with a pale blue ribbon.
Goodness! What on earth could be inside? Emily whispered excitedly to James.
No idea, he admitted, perplexed. Mums kept it a complete secret.
They decided to wait until the next day, once the wedding chaos had settled. Emily suggested starting with Margarets gift. After untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, they gaspedstaring in stunned silence.
Emily had noticed something odd about James early on: he never took so much as a biscuit without asking.
Mind if I have the last sweet? hed murmur, eyeing the lone toffee in the dish.
Of course not! shed reply, baffled. You dont need to ask.
Force of habit, hed say with an awkward smile, unwrapping it quickly.
Only months later did Emily understand why.
When James introduced her to his parents, Margaret and Harold, his mother seemed pleasantat first. That illusion shattered over dinner, when Margaret served them two meagre spoonfuls of mash and a single lamb cutlet. James finished quickly, hesitantly asking for seconds.
You eat like a horse! Well never afford you! Margaret scoffed, leaving Emily speechless.
When Harold asked for more, his wife piled his plate without complaint. Emily pushed her food around, stunned by Margarets blatant disdain for her own son.
As wedding plans unfolded, Margaret criticised everythingthe rings, the venue, the menu.
Why waste so much? You couldve found cheaper! shed snipe disapprovingly.
Emily finally snapped.
Let us handle it! Its our money, our choice!
Wounded, Margaret stopped callingeven threatening to boycott the wedding.
Two days before, Harold arrived unexpectedly.
Help me with the gift, he said, leading James to his car.
Hed bought them a washing machinewithout consulting Margaret, whod balked at the expense. She vanished into the crowd during the reception.
The next morning, excitement turned to dismay as they opened her box.
Towels? Emily whispered, disbelieving.
And socks, James added, holding up two pairs of terrycloth ones. Mum just grabbed whatever was easiest.
Days later, Margaret rang, grilling James about other guests gifts.
What did Emilys family give? Your mates? she pressed.
None of your business, James said firmly before hanging up, relieved.
The lesson stood clear: generosity isnt measured in price, but in respect. And Margaret had forgotten that long ago.
