One of my best friends and I have a yearly tradition he started (it’s not connected to holidays but tends to happen around new years because we procrastinate and/or keep thinking we’ll find something ‘better’) wherein we send each other a book we loved that year. Not ‘another copy of the book’ but the selfsame book. And it’s glorious. GLORIOUS, I tell you. There’s something about holding the actual bound pages which meant the most out of all the bound pages to another person in a span of time. Not all the books I’ve received have been my personal favorites, but all have been wonderful, and have taught me about the world through what was meaningful to someone else I care about.