Redux
Every journey circles home
I overheard a conversation between mothers the other day -journalists do that- trying to decide what to buy their kids for Christmas. “They have everything”, was the repeated phrase with a sigh. And they really do. A few-thousand-euro professional bike. The latest super-pro football boots. One mother said her son refused to leave the shop without the €300 pair. Clothes, toys, and every gadget imaginable. Smartphones worth over a thousand euros, smartwatches, wireless earbuds, gaming consoles, VR headsets, tablets, the full catalogue of modern treasures that children now value so intensely.
And it’s not only families who can easily afford it. Even those with limited means often stretch themselves beyond comfort, offering far more than their budgets allow. It’s become endless. No longer reserved for Christmas or Easter. It unfolds all year round: online shopping, online gaming, online spending, consumption dressed up as achievement. Parents work harder, give more, buy more, trying to keep pace with expectations that grow faster than the children themselves.
As I left that conversation, the radio cut through with chilling news of a nine-year-old cyclist struck by a car and left in critical condition. Driver, another young person, a 19-year-old. And instantly, the world collapses. Is there greater fear for parents? No. Children and thousands of young student working as delivery boys, with their mothers worrying far away navigate streets on bikes and scooters, in Cyprus, where weak road safety is a reality. So we buy everything for them, yet we cannot guarantee the one thing that matters most, their safety. We invest in them, but not in the world around them. The pressure and the care do not extend to their environment.
So what value lies in things they own simply because we can provide them? Holidays are meant to hold spirit, connection, gratitude, not accumulation. Anything can shatter our world in a heartbeat. Every one of us can lose everything in an instant.
Maybe the best gift this year isn’t another high-tech toy. It’s presence. Being there. Visiting grandparents who cherish every minute, listening instead of scrolling, sharing time that truly matters, grounding children in relationships that outlast any device.
For kids who “have everything,” the most meaningful gift isn’t found under the tree, but around it, moments and memories that shape who they are, not what they own.