Those in the know, know that Reddit Gifts is about the giving. Giving gifts, of course, but also giving time and thought and occasionally bits of one’s own self, whether it be a unique creation from the Crafts Exchange or a message written on a bar napkin with lipstick. Or anything in between, which is probably a lot of stuff.

My Arbitrary Day Santa apparently doesn’t believe in half-assing anything. Many of us Redditors like to theme their gifts, I’ve done it myself. With a Redditor who was thinking of proposing to his long-time girlfriend, I went with something old, new, borrowed and blue. I thought I was a clever boy.

My Santa went with “EVERY GIFT EXCHANGE ALL AT ONCE”, and after that, he got personal.

Santa gave me SNACKS. For watching movies when I have the munchies. My favorite ones, plus jalapeno kettle chips, also pretty much my favorite chip. Coincidence, or is my Santa a Super Stalker? Hmm. nom nom nom

He gave me BOOKS. Significantly one of them is from John Hodgman, who I can’t get enough of yet hadn’t owned any of his books until now. There’s space waiting for that book, in my mind and my imagination, and in my fun zone. The other book I know nothing about, but I’m sure it will be amazing, because it’s from my Santa, who may very well be a Jedi.

Snacks, Books, ______. You were thinking crafts, and so was I. But the correct answer was Troll. Because my Santa covers all the bases. I got a comb. Maybe I should change my profile picture.

Then came the CRAFT part, and the part where I started kind of losing it a little bit in terms of being macho. Because exactly as I read the cross-stitched message was exactly when I knew that I had lost the game. Look at it, Reddit. Game over, man. Game over.

Though I stayed on my feet I swayed a little as I looked at a labor of love, time, talent, focus and dedication directed towards myself, a random person. It’s more than a meme, more than the sum of its parts for me, because someone made it for me personally. I look at it, Reddit, and I see it for not only its elegance and beauty, but I see it for its intended purpose, to make me happy. It’s a happiness capacitor. When I run low, all I need do is gaze upon this gift. I’m happy just writing about it. This will go on my desk at work, a companion to my ceiling cat, working the optimism beat just for me.

I’m still standing, then sort of stumble when I see it. My jaw drops. Then I turn the front page and fall to my knees. I am stunned, emotionally and physically, by this gift because no way I expected this. And neither would you, because no way. No fucking way.

My grandmother Nola died when I was five. I remember her being awesome and a big-time hugger. The last time I saw her before she died she called me "the bee's knees". Just about nobody ever says that anymore, but I do, in honor of Grandma Nola.

Santa was watching when I used the term “the bee's knees” in a comment and wrote a short story based on it. Despite what you’ll read in his note to me, this man can write. This story is a rollicking freight train of wonderment and it’s all for me.

Look at it, Reddit. This man wrote a genuinely awesome story for me, dedicated it to me and signed it with his Reddit name. Now think if it was written for you. Now wipe that grin off your face, it's written for me. I may never stop smiling.

I look at these tokens of the inherent goodness of man in front of me and I am humbled, joyful, filled with wonder and somehow feeling better about people in general.

Those in the know, know that maggiesguy just won the game. Thank you Schuyler, for knocking my socks so far off I’m going with sandals until winter.