What Being a Good Guest Cost Me

During my first job out of school, we did a modified version of Secret Santa where you’d give small gifts to your person every day for a week, nothing costing more than a couple of dollars. By the third or fourth day, I remember feeling that small, embarrassing pang of being overlooked. Everyone around me was unwrapping things on their desks every day. A slice of banana bread, a packet of biscuits, a sweet coffee from Dunkin. But I got nothing. I tried not to think anything of it, but the feeling wouldn’t go away.

It wasn’t until the end of the week, when we found out who our Secret Santas were, that I finally said something. His response was very unexpected.