How my Christian Mother unknowingly taught me the detachment of Buddha

I found this today cleaning up my email folders (much as I would
chide her for spending so much time cleaning through her files and
notes and coupons -- it is all the the same, paper or electronic).
This was her response when I asked her what she wanted to for
Christmas on what we expected, but never knew for sure, would be her
final Christmas.

> Gift Cert. to Olive Garden so maybe someone can pick my up a soup/
> slad some day on their way
> here.
>
>
> black pens with soft thick holder - I
> think it is BIC
>
> spiral calendar that shows by the
> month - days about 2x2 with bold dates.
>
> Crest spin toothbrush/
>
> Nice blank cards in a box or all
> occasion will do too. (arttistic - book store has some)
>
> candles - but no strong or floral
> scent - cinnamon - or earth scents - peppermint - I
> do not need holders
> just candles.
>
> PS: you know all the money to get here is
> more than needed

I don't know if this sort of response taught me the art of
selflessness and of keeping the materialism of our world at bay just
a bit, or did it teach me to never really ask for what I need or
want. Not to make her out to be some saint. She could play the
martyr a bit too well, at times. Yet, I also know this list was
sincere and genuine. Her hands hurt and the thick pens made her life
a bit easier to keep her notes of appointments and medicines in her
calendar, much needed to assist her failing memory. I am sure her
real request would have been health, but no fortune could by that, so
why ask for more than you need?

I will go with the first lesson.

Now, let me go add more things to my amazon wishlist, which few will
ever bother looking at except for me. Gifts are wonderful, but in
the end, as the saying goes, it really is the thought that matters.