I am the first to admit that I love Christmas, and it is all because of the gifts. Yes, I like the holiday ham, flickering lights and Christmas music, but I love the presents.

Like most adults, I want nothing more than peace on earth and good will toward man ... and woman ... and child, but this seems far-fetched in these crazy times that it is easier just to wish for a new 10-inch blade for my table saw.

There are times when I feel a bit selfish, if not superficial because of my earthly wants and desires. Still, it is the truth and I see no value in adding lying to my long list of character flaws. Besides, even though I enjoy receiving gifts, I enjoy giving them too. But this year is different. Let me explain.

My daughter is now 10 years old, but from the age of 3, she has been making my Christmas gifts each year. Sometime around the second week in December, she bounds into the house holding a hastily wrapped gift direct from art class and places it under the tree.

I have received vases, bowls, paintings and paperweights. Her gifts can be found on every shelf and around every corner in our home. My favorite is a porpoise that she made for me in 2001. It looks more like a gray log than a dolphin, but the hole in the head and the crooked dorsal fin are dead giveaways.

This year will be different. I am sure that there is a handmade gift under the tree for me, but it will be outnumbered by other gifts from department stores, mail order catalogs and, of course, the Internet. You see, my little girl is growing up and she has been shopping. Soon the handmade gifts will be a thing of the past.

I noticed the shift for the first time a few months ago. We ran to the mall to pick up paper for my palm sander and as I perused the aisles, my daughter asked what I wanted for Christmas.

I stopped in my tracks. Christmas had never been about what I wanted, it was about what she wanted — to make.

In a weird sort of way, this was refreshing. My daughter had become other-centric overnight. Up until that point, she gave gifts that she created with her own two hands; surely with lots of love, but without any thought to what that person might actually want. Now all of a sudden she was interested in others — in me. This shift from self to other is healthy, but comes at a price, literally and figuratively.

Finding the perfect gift can be a challenge, but not nearly as difficult as making something by hand. She may get others what they want, but she may also succumb to the marketing pressures of the modern consumer. Finally, she may miss the point that gifts need not be expensive, trendy, or even useful, to be valuable.

I am lamenting this Christmas. Perhaps I am being selfish again, but I want the handmade ornament, custom picture frame and laminated bookmark.

I am not ready to make the move from handmade to store-bought.

The truth is that saw blades wear out, but gifts made from love start as craft, become art and eventually turn into treasures.

I will forget the tools, beer glasses and golf balls, but I will always remember the little gray log that she insists is a porpoise.

Michael C. DeMattos is on faculty at the University of Hawaii School of Social Work. Born and raised on the Wai'anae Coast, he now lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs and two mice.

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