Today I received a rather large parcel from one of my aunts, an older sister of my mother's, who'd been in the habit of making quilts for as many of the children and grand-children of her siblings as she can. Mine is big enough to cover a King-sized bed, made of blue denim and other patches of fabric. It's heavy enough to had real impact if thrown, enough to knock down a small child or an enfeebled adult easily, and I will appreciate it through this Winter.
I had no idea that the package was on its way until my mother told me last night after dinner to look for it. This is the sort of pleasant surprise that is often lacking during this season anymore, especially one consisting of a hand-made artifact that's good for the rest of my life (and able to be passed down a couple of generations; with sensible care, denim wears very well). Since my aunt is well into retirement, she's got all sorts of time (and with frugality a habit, the means) to do this as an everyday thing. (My mother has a similar pursuit, making hand-made winter garb like hats and scarfs; I proudly wear what she's made for me.)
This is the sort of expression of love, in the filial and brotherly sense, that this season is really about- and you need not be a crafter to do it. Taking, as best you can, the needs and wants of those who you seek to gift for is not difficult. Making certain that any charitable giving you do actually goes where you want it to is harder, but not impractical to do. Just put some thought into it; you're well ahead of the curve if you do.