I used to travel a bit in my old job.  Whenever I was required to leave for more than a couple of days, I would promise to bring the kids a present.  This seemed to ease the pain for everyone, their sadness and my guilt. I know this wasn’t the best approach; it was just my way of coping.

Now that I no longer travel for work, my expeditions away are few and far between.  I’m no longer riddled with guilt, so I no longer feel compelled to treat each trip like a birthday shopping spree.

So, on a recent trip, I made the decision not to buy presents.  Two days away didn’t warrant it when they were home safe and sound with their Dad.

But while at the airport, I stumbled upon some Magic Beans and I knew that I had to get them.  As a child, I remembered getting these on our camping excursions to Mexico.  My kids probably had never heard of them.  So for less than ten dollars, I had found the perfect souvenir.

Only after getting home and doling out the little beans, did I realize that these really were Magic Beans.  Not only did they bring smiles and laughter, mystery and intrigue.  They gave me something more.

I realized that I had the patience to wait for the perfect memento, the clarity to know that the souvenir was just a small token of my affection, and the wisdom to understand that a simple treasure with meaning was far more valuable than an expensive gift that lacked it.

The Magic Beans now sit on my desk.  Each time I glance at them, I can hear the laughter of my children from the first time they saw the beans jump.

Everyone should have get some Magic Beans.

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