My Tiny House Gift Guide - 2024
A gift guide for people who live in tiny houses? If it isn't a cliche, it should be: Nothing! Think tiny. Then, rethink whatever you had in mind. OK. So maybe there are a few things. Ah, maybe there's one grand thing.
Let's see, what is small and valuable? Gold. Jewels. Cash, stocks, and bonds? That's a short list. Branch out into consumables: spices,... soaps?
My hesitation is brought to you by a fundamental characteristic of residents of tiny houses. Whether by choice or necessity, they live like minimalists. Tiny house residents can't be hoarders, unless they contract the excess to a storage unit. Stuff is not the right stuff.
Want to give material things? Gift cards, tickets,... Sure, but soon enough, I'm getting a blank again.
Books are small, but they require shelves, which aren't. Ebooks, however don't take up room, but are hard to wrap.
I've always appreciated food (and my doctor agrees), but bulk food is bulky. Food delivered in styrofoam coolers means finding room in the fridge for the food and the porch for the cooler. One clever solution was to gift me food by calling the local butcher, setting up a tab, and leaving it up to me as to when I pick up the goods. The butcher (or the farmer or the fisher folk) got the money early, didn't have to stock or ship the inventory, and I picked the steaks up after the holiday rush had rushed by. Sure, the same thing can be done with a supermarket chain and a gift card, but the personal touch is more personal.
How about immaterial things? Hugs, smiles, cards and letters not written and produced by Hallmark, kind words, non-judgmental listening,...
Donating to a charity can be a nice gift for philanthropic people.
Tiny house living requires intentional living. Tiny house living is unconventional living. Conventional living suggests conventional gifts to such an extent that mass-produced things can be appropriate - in a conventional-sized house. Tiny houses require customization. Conventional assumptions don't fit. Each owner can have their own list based on what they need or want, don't need and don't want, or don't have room for.
Spending enough time to understand what they want can be a greater gift. Giving one thing that means they can get rid of two things also gives the gift of space for storage and time for managing the stuff.
There's an irony in struggling to decide what to buy a minimalist for a holiday that is about a poor, struggling young couple that had to resort to sleeping in a manger, who probably could fit most of their possessions onto a donkey. (Are gold, frankincense, and myrrh models of small valuable gifts appropriate for the season?)
Tiny house living is intentional living. Usually, that intention is personal, a choice made and borne by an individual or a couple. At gift-giving time, that intentionality permeates through the gift-givers among friends and family.
Understanding is not required; there's little time for it to be dispersed. Maybe the gift goes the other way: an understanding and a tolerance of how difficult it can be to fit an alternative lifestyle to mainstream norms.
Maybe that suggests a gift to share, something like wine or tea to share during a casual visit. That suggests one thing that doesn't require storage, wrapping paper, or shipping: time. Time is still the most precious gift, especially when shared.