Why the Gift is Given

by Impossible Numbers

A Foal's Perspective

“Why do we get gifts every year?” said Dinky. “For Hearth’s Warming, I mean.”

At this, both Ruby Pinch and Piña Colada stopped and thought.

In truth, the question had niggled at the back of Ruby’s mind for quite some time, but so many ponies were smiling and cheering and greeting each other that she’d sensed it wasn’t the right question to ask. Anyway, she'd been too busy wondering what to get for Berryshine “Berry” Punch.

The three of them were all schoolfillies, but wandered the Ponyville marketplace as boldly as the adults around them. As such, their size gave them an advantage, hopping among the larger legs and occasionally beneath the underbelly of an unsuspecting mare or stallion.

Although words were polite and the crowd kept its jostling to a minimum, this was at heart a commercial feeding frenzy. Earth ponies and unicorns slipped through as quickly as they could, and overhead the pegasi zipped back and forth whilst darting around each other urgently. The air was thick with the garble of hasty greetings and hurried requests.

Ruby herself was starting to feel dizzy. Too much noise, too many shifting shapes to keep track of: she’d lost Piña at least twice and had been forced to go back and fetch her. Dinky remained up ahead, showing where gaps opened up and where a filly could squeeze herself between bodies.

And now this.

“You just do,” Ruby said, more out of reflex than out of true belief.

“I like getting gifts,” said Piña, bumping into her cousin's flank. “Everyone likes getting gifts. That’s why you do it, or else they feel left out on Hearth’s Warming.”

Dinky stopped to face them, and they stood in a relative patch of peace amid all the shouting and shopping. “Maybe. But then, why just this once? Why not do it every day?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Piña.

“Oh, grow up,” said Ruby, but not with much feeling. “It’d never work. You’d have to buy gifts every day too, and I bet you couldn’t. I’ve seen your allowance.”

“All right,” said Dinky. “Every month. I reckon you could manage that.”

“Anyway, you get birthdays,” said Piña. “That’s twice a year, then, and still room for more. I think giving gifts every month is a great idea!”

For her part, Ruby licked her lips. Among foals like her, this sort of philosophical puzzle was food and drink. Now Dinky had rung the dinner gong, she wanted to get her teeth into this new dish, but… but…

“That’s a good question, actually. I kinda like the idea. But… what would you get every month? You’d run out of ideas too quickly. Then you gotta buy stupid stuff, like soap or dandy brushes.”

“Or maybe, maybe, maybe,” said Piña, not one to let go of an idea, “maybe instead of buying everything for yourself, other ponies are nice enough to buy them for you?”

Dinky pouted, and then she winced as a pegasus rushed past her and disturbed her mane with the turbulence. “Buy things like groceries, you mean? That’s what Ammy always gets.”

“Nah. Like books you want, or toys, or magazines, or –”

“But then everyone’s just buying what everyone else would’ve bought anyway,” said Ruby. “I thought gifts had to be special one-offs.”

“I meant –” said Dinky, who got knocked by a passing train of ponies. She growled. “I meant: what’s the purpose of getting gifts at all? Deep down? The real reason?”

Ruby groaned; someone apologized and disappeared into the crowd. “Look, can we talk about this later? I’m going to bite my tongue if I get knocked again.”

Piña yelped. “Ow! OK, OK, but what about –”

“We’ll come back later. How about something from Sugarcube Corner, and then we’ll wait for the crowd to go away?”

This got a nod from Dinky and a doubtful moan from Piña.

“The ayes have it. Let’s get a sugar rush.”

“YES!” shrieked Dinky. “Sugar rush! Bring it on!”

On their way out, a daring thought passed through Ruby’s mind, partly alight with hope and partly heavy with guilt. After all, what was the point of all this fuss over bits and bobs? There had to be a reason, or else it was a waste of time. And if there wasn’t a reason, then… then couldn’t she not get a present this year? It’d save a lot of hassle and disappointment.

For the moment, she put it aside and weighed the pros and cons of an apple strudel and a strawberry tart. If it had fruit in it, surely that made it healthy. Or at least healthier.

---

The problem of the philosophy of gifts didn’t pop back into her mind until much later, when she was already at home.

It was “Make Your Own Meal” night, which meant Berryshine was upstairs in her room and absolutely not to be disturbed. Not that it bothered Ruby much. By now, she’d even taught Piña to resist going up there, however much the foal had stretched and groaned with the desire to climb the stairs.

“She just needs a time-out,” Ruby had said, over and over.

The two of them had banana sandwiches, mainly because the fruit needed eating up. Ruby cut up an apple and tipped the slices from the cutting board onto Piña’s plate.

“Like hay fries,” Ruby said brightly.

“Thank you,” said Piña to her plate. Not looking up.

Concerned, Ruby cocked her head. “Um… Wanna play tonight?”

“OK.”

“OK, then. I’ll set it up.”

They traipsed past the staircase, glancing up before entering the lounge. As tradition decreed – honed by countless nights upon restless nights – Ruby set up the board game on the floor. She didn’t feel right sitting up to the table or on the sofas, and Berryshine kept the carpet so clean they could eat off it.

“I’ll be Daring Do this time.” Ruby chewed her sandwich and levitated the booklet of rules. “You can be Ahuizotl, Doctor Caballeron, or –”

“I wanna be Daring Do.”

“OK. I’ll be Caballeron, then. You start, ‘cause you’re the youngest. Bet I still beat you, though.”

Keeping half of her mind on the game, Ruby suddenly thought, This was a gift. I think it was, anyway. But I don’t remember who gave it to me. Was it Berry, or Dinky’s lot, or what?

Her unicorn horn lit up, and she rolled the dice. “Darn it. Fell into the snake pit. Move back three spaces and miss a turn.”

By contrast, Piña scooped the dice up in a cup, shook it lethargically between her hooves, and dropped them out. “Two… four… six… eight. I get a ‘Fortune Favours’ card.”

“What’s it say?”

“Uh… Sapphire Stone. Keep this card. Immune to one trap space, then must be discarded.”

“Piña, who got this game?” Ruby blurted out.

Piña shrugged. “Big Sis, I think.”

“Only I was wondering about that thing Dinky asked earlier. Your turn again. I’m stuck in the snake pit, remember.”

“Huh? What thing?” Looking half-asleep, Piña rolled again. “Two… four… five. The crocodile ceiling trap. I play the ‘Fortune Favours’ card. Ha. In a while, crocodile.”

A low moan burst through the ceiling. They both glanced up; Piña had a look of wide-eyed alarm. Nothing followed.

They relaxed again.

“Your turn,” said Piña, heaving a great big sigh and lying herself down with hooves holding up head.

“Maybe… Where’s the other dice? Ah, there it is… Well, I remember ‘Auntie’ Berry said you got gifts if you were a good filly, and didn’t get any if you were a bad one.”

“Like cookies.”

Ruby moved three forwards, right into the snake pit again. “Aargh! Again! Come on! Sorry, what?”

“Like cookies. We only get cookies if we’re good, and we don’t get them if we’re naughty. Then you act good all the time, just to make sure.”

“I dunno.” Ruby watched her both roll the dice and push her piece eleven squares forward. “Sounds like the sort of thing grown-ups would say, but I know for a fact ‘Auntie’ Berry sneaks cookies and drinks when she thinks we’re not looking. It’s a…” She tried to remember the word Scootaloo had used once in the playground. “It’s a scam.”

Or at least not true. It was like calling Berryshine “Auntie”. She hadn’t meant to, all those years ago, but when she’d first laid eyes on her grown-up cousin, the word had slipped out. Berryshine had laughed it off and invited her to keep it, and Ruby had been – and still was – too ashamed to defy her. Especially when Berryshine had said it was cute, and kinda flattering. At least now the shame had dwindled to a barely conscious twinge…

“Here’s the dice. But you gotta do it, or they won’t give you cookies – I mean, presents,” said Piña.

Ruby ripped off a chunk of her sandwich and shoved it in. Any excuse to use what little magical talent she had was fine by her.

Ever faithful, Piña straightened up. “Berry’s a good big sis. She wouldn’t do anything like that. She said the world has to be fair, or what’s the point?”

“Wait. Why am I rolling? I should be sitting out this turn. Here, have the dice back.”

“OK. You gotta admit we’re much better foals now because she does stuff like that.”

“Hm.” Ruby didn’t meet her eye. Anyway, Piña was dominating the board; she’d be at the Temple Vault in no time, at this rate.

“I got it! That’s why we have gifts! To make us into good ponies! Only good ponies deserve good things, right?”

Yet the idea was sour. To Ruby, it sounded too much like bribery. Her lips curled with distaste. No, that couldn’t be it. The whole thing smells wrong.

Nevertheless, she said nothing. Piña was clearly too much of a foal to understand. And, in an uncomfortable but tempting way, Ruby wanted her to stay too much of a foal. Even Dinky seemed to be growing up too fast. It was like slowly converting to an enemy camp, and she wanted someone to hold the line.

Maybe Dinky IS a better bet, though? Ruby decided yes; she'd simply have to wait and ask her tomorrow.

They stayed silent. Piña won the game, but Ruby’s brain was done with games.

---

“All right! What game shall we play next!?”

The bell had just gone, and recess the next morning was already well under way. As Ruby crawled down the steps from the schoolhouse, she looked across the grassy playground and caught sight of Dinky galloping ahead of a whole herd of students. Other foals skipped rope or clambered over the monkey bars. A few sat by the white fence, munching homemade lunches or deep in gossip.

“Let’s play Grittish Stampede!” Dinky turned and leaped upon one of her followers, who flapped his wings furiously. “Gotcha! Now you’re on my side!”

Grittish Stampede: Ruby remembered Pipsqueak had told the class about it once, after he’d visited relatives in the Grittish Isles. Of course, Dinky had pounced on the idea instantly and had yet to let go.

Ruby watched with the air of one much too old and serious to bother with this sort of thing. Yet her legs itched. She admired Dinky’s leaping technique, and then rolled her eyes as the next captured teammate fluffed a tackle. Even she, Ruby, could’ve done better than that.

Suddenly irritated, she turned away for a moment. She had to look for Piña. Goodness knew where she’d gotten to…

Then she heard hooves running towards her, turned, and yelped as Dinky landed on her back.

“Gotcha! Join the hunt, fellow griffon!”

“Dinky! Get off me!”

Dinky backed off hurriedly; even she knew better than to ignore those tones.

“Sorry.” Then as though nothing had happened, she said, “Wanna play?”

“No… I gotta look for Piña.”

“She’s playing with us. So yay or nay?”

“Huh… I dunno. You just run around catching ponies, right?”

“Only if you have fun, otherwise you can’t play.”

Darn it, I’m not made of stone. “OK – I mean, yay – but only for a bit.”

“Cool! Join the hunt!” Dinky shot off like a cannonball fuelled by sugar. Blinking in surprise, Ruby toddled after her, suddenly aware of how stumpy her foal legs must be.

More young ponies fell to Dinky’s mighty band of griffons that day. No one really expected to “survive” the whole game. Instead, the one who lasted the longest would win the title of Griffon Champion. So far, Scootaloo held the record. And as she watched, Ruby spotted Piña cackling and laughing and ducking and dodging and weaving like a professional. Even Ruby chuckled, after a while. Why not, after all?

“So I’ve been thinkin’,” said Dinky amid all the running; they were both trying to corral three unicorns against the schoolhouse. “About that gift thing. I talked to Ammy. Last night. And I think – Darn it!” At the last second, Sweetie Belle and her fellows shot around them. Dinky groaned and beckoned Ruby to follow in hot pursuit.

“Think… what?” Ruby panted; unlike Dinky, she didn’t have a boundless supply of energy.

“I think I got an answer – HA! Gotcha, Scootaloo!”

“Darn it!” Scootaloo pouted and turned away. “I wanted to break the record this time.”

“An answer?” said Ruby. “Can we slow down for a bit?”

“Good idea.” Dinky leaped at Archer, but the foal leaped higher and was already a shrinking blue dot on the other side of the grass. “Need to regroup and plan our next attack.”

They skidded to a halt behind the schoolhouse again, Ruby panting until she was sure her lungs were going to burst, and Dinky barely snorting a little harder than usual. Where does she get her energy?

“You know that saying,” said Dinky, “‘It’s the thought that counts’? That gave me a clue. It’s a gesture of love.”

Ruby panted on, a long way away from any coherent reply. However, she frowned at this.

“No, really! I’ve seen ponies get all kinds of silly gifts: awful jumpers, dandy brushes, shampoo, stuff like that. And you have to say ‘thank you’ if you get them, even if you aren’t thankful at all. Aunts do that.”

“Ahem!” snapped Ruby.

“Oh. Sorry. Some aunts do that, especially if they're not really aunts. And that doesn’t make sense, because if a gift has to be special, then why would grown-ups make you say that? They’d tell the aunts off if the gift had to be special.”

Scootaloo yelled at them from the white fence. Judging from the strong stampede still galloping across, the griffon side were having a spot of trouble.

“JUST A MINUTE!” Dinky waved over, and then turned back. “So…?”

“What?” Ruby’s throat was aflame. No way was she running around now. She hated that feeling.

“So… obviously, you can get whatever for a gift, because the giving is what’s important. And it’s important because you always get gifts from ponies you know. Who love you.”

Ruby curled her lip. Breathless or not, she couldn’t let such mushy muck mess up her serious inquiry. It was worse than Piña’s “Cookie Bribe” theory.

“Sounds… nice,” she said, smiling a little. “But… isn’t it a bit… simple?”

Dinky pouted. “And Hearth’s Warming isn’t?”

“I think with grown-ups, it’s a bit… more complicated than that.”

“Huh. That’s what Ammy said last night.” Following another bellow from Scootaloo, she added, “Say, maybe you should come over and talk to her? She knows about all these kinds of things.”

“I thought you talked to her last night?”

“Yeah, but you know,” said Dinky in what was clearly meant to be a casual voice. “We had our disagreements. So, you wanna come over after school? I got snacks in.”

Scootaloo bellowed for the third time, and they had no choice but to throw themselves back into the hunt.

---

Dinky was as good as her word; the cupboards were loaded with snacks at her house. Sweeties from Bon Bon’s shop and pastries from Sugarcube Corner. Trifles and cookies of all flavours and varieties. Even the fruit bowl was much fuller than anything Berryshine had maintained.

“No more than three,” called a stern voice from the next room. “Those snacks are for parties and Hearth’s Warming only, understand?”

“Got it!” Whereupon Dinky levitated bags of stuff and tottered under the weight. Remembering Berry’s advice, Ruby selected a slice of strawberry trifle and a slice of lemon drizzle cake – they had fruit in, after all – before following Dinky into the next room.

The fire crackled in the hearth. Such warmth settled upon her like blissful snow. Festive reds and oranges and yellows crowded the available space. They even had a tree! A whole decorated tree! Berryshine hadn’t gotten theirs out of the attic yet.

“What did I say?” said Amethyst sharply from the main table.

Dinky groaned and walked back into the kitchen.

On the table, not a square inch of wood was visible. Cards and lists and papers of impressive size and font lay in clear rows and columns until the whole resembled a chessboard designed by a bureaucrat. Head down, Amethyst scribbled note after note, as mechanical and precise as an assembly device.

“Erm,” said Ruby. She was never quite sure around Amethyst. The mare had such a penetrating glare.

“Just filling out Hearth’s Warming cards,” said Amethyst without looking up. “Don’t mind me.”

And she never sounded cheerful either. Mildly annoyed in a firm and polite way, perhaps, but not cheerful.

“That’s a lot of friends,” Ruby said.

“They’re not all from yours truly.”

Ruby didn’t reply, because she didn’t understand what she meant.

Dinky marched back in, carrying only one supersize bag of goodies. She wriggled into place on the rug before the hearth.

“As I was saying,” she said, waving Ruby over, “ponies buy gifts to show they love each other. That’s why they only buy for their nearest and dearest.”

“No, Dinky,” said Amethyst wearily, without looking up. “Ponies buy gifts for their nearest and dearest because any more would be too expensive.”

Dinky shoved a load of candy into her mouth. “You mean, like, for strangers?” she tried to say.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. I mean for anyone. You gotta set limits on your budget, unless you like sleeping in cardboard boxes.”

“Which I do.”

“On the street. Not for pretend.”

Dinky swallowed. “What? In the cold?”

“You betcha.”

Dinky shivered. “What a horrible thought. Why can’t they get blankets and things to make them nice and comfy?”

Amethyst did not stop writing – she was far too efficient for that, and Ruby for one respected this trait – but the wiggle of the ballpoint definitely slowed at this.

“Dinky, it’s not a nice world out there,” she said in the sad tones of someone who regretfully had to take charge of the conversation’s navigation deck. “Some ponies fall through the cracks, and they can’t do what you do anymore. They lose money, or run away from home, or make a stupid decision, and suddenly they can’t buy blankets and things.”

“Just cardboard boxes?”

“They find cardboard boxes.”

“Ew. That sounds mucky.”

“Well, there you have it. Welcome to life.”

Dinky stared at her for a moment, and then chuckled away whatever distressing parts hadn’t fit into her mental state. “You say such funny things, Ammy.”

“So why do ponies buy each other gifts?” said Ruby. If anyone could be trusted with this, maybe Amethyst could. “Why am I getting Auntie Berry a gift this year? I don’t think it’s just because I love her. There’s gotta be a deeper reason.”

This time, Amethyst looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a bit young for that kind of question?”

“Uh, no.” At least, she hoped not.

“Does it matter if you get the presents anyway?”

Dinky scowled at her. “This is serious, Ammy.”

“All right, all right.” Amethyst sighed, as though indulging them against her better judgement, and lowered her pen. “Think of it like this, then. You help other ponies, and other ponies help you, right?”

“Uh huh,” said both foals, Dinky with her mouth full.

“A friend in need is a friend indeed, right?”

“Uh huh.” Both foals swallowed, Dinky with a wince.

“Friends and family look out for each other, right?”

“Where are you going with this?” said Ruby, getting impatient.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Amethyst returned to her scribbling. “Tit for tat. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. The reason you give a gift to someone is because they gave you a gift.”

Ruby frowned. It really was hard to tell with Amethyst, sometimes. “That’s it?”

“According to Golden Harvest? Yup.” Even her voice was inscrutable. “You got something better?”

“OK, then. Who gave the first gift?”

“Meaning what, precisely?”

“Meaning: If I give you a gift because you gave me a gift, and you gave me a gift because I gave you a gift before then… How did it get started at all? Someone had to give a gift first, and they couldn’t do it because the other pony gave them a gift before. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a first.”

“Can’t catch us out that way, Ruby. Obviously, it’s hereditary.”

“What, all the way back to the Founding of Equestria?”

Amethyst shrugged. “Good a reason as any. Unless you can think of a better one?”

“I reckon Carrot Top could,” said Dinky around her mouthful.

“Be polite. That’s Golden Harvest to you, Dinky. And don’t talk with your mouth full. You’ll make a mess.”

While the fire crackled on and the pen scratched its way through several cards, Dinky chewed her sweeties and Ruby curled up, absorbing the room aflame with Hearth’s Warming cheer. This wasn’t her first time in Dinky’s house. It was a temporary shelter, but a shelter nonetheless.

This has to be a test of some kind. There must be more to gift-giving than that. I just wish Amethyst would give a signal, or something. And what’s with all the “living in cardboard boxes” stuff anyway?

Why am I getting anything for Auntie Berry? If it’s not tit for tat, then what is it? There must be more to it than that. There must be. If there isn’t… Well, there must be.

She swallowed and tried to enjoy the warmth, knowing it wouldn’t last.

---

Comments

[Darksymphony777]

wow Amethyst is a jerk here thinking oh you have to give gifts to people just because, that's an excuse and the kids know it.

[Impossible Numbers]

8691520

Her idea was more about tit-for-tat than "just because". In any case, the fun part (of course) is that Amethyst might have told them that not because she really believes it, but because she wants to see how they react.