Our family has cut way back on Christmas presents in recent years. We all still enjoy filling some desires from the grandchildrens’ wishlists. Honestly, they are the only ones who really need anything.

But I have a problem, and it is probably a hangup going back to my childhood. I want everyone to have a package or two under the tree. A few years ago, we set a modest limit, so the gift shouldn’t be big, fancy, or expensive. It just has to be wrapped and tagged “to and from” so everyone gets to feel special. We are such a small family that giving each other a small gift is not a financial burden. But it can be a time burden to think up or stumble on just the right little gift. And then of course it has to be wrapped. I know many families draw names to simplify the whole hassle. That’s not us.

Then this year, for the first time I can remember, I threw the family a curve ball. I discovered something I really wanted. Not needed, mind you. The more I thought about it, it became my heart’s desire. But it was priced outside the normal spending limit. I said to my daughter, “I really want one of those electronic thingamajigs that rotates pictures in a frame.” It seems they have been around for years, and lots of seniors own them. One can load pictures of their family’s whole lifetime. I pleaded my case: “It would be perfect if everyone kicked in this one time. I don’t want anything else.” My proposal was accepted.

I added one caveat to my wish. I wasn’t going to allow my scattered family to leave for home without my knowing how to operate this doohickey. I wanted to be able to send pictures from my phone and also be able to delete them easily. I got an even better deal.

Ian, my son-in-law, the family’s computer genius, got me up and running. He downloaded the app from my phone and then taught me the basics. Turns out I probably could have done it myself, but I’m a bit technophobic. Steve Jobs wasn’t thinking of me when he started the whatchamacallit industry. Dear Richard and I are not as swift as our smart phones.

So now I have this wonder-machine in my living room, and it is magnificent. There is an option for how long you want one picture to stay in the frame before the next one pops up. Five minutes was too long so I reset it for one minute. That 60 seconds of joy is perfect. It doesn’t matter whether I’m sitting in the room when it changes or just passing through. The fun, the memories, the good times of my lifetime leap off the screen.

I now have, any day, any hour, pics of my grandchildren at all ages. The quiet little gizmo takes me directly back to watching them toddle carefully across their family room or smooshing their first birthday cake. What a fun day that was. The first days of school have been photographed every year, and the entire collection has been promised. Their participation in childhood soccer teams and Halloween costumes, along with teenage concerts and musicals are the starring attractions on my new gadget. But there is so much more.

Every summer I take many pictures of my changing gardens – the new daylilies, the added garden bench, the multiplied irises. I am labeling them by year as I upload them from my phone. There are so many examples of summer floral splendor that now translate to winter smiles. Even my living room looks prettier to me.

Whether it’s vacations, pictures of my kittycats, or lunches with my late mother, the memories come flooding back. I can almost smell the ocean from the beach photos or my grandchildren’s fresh air aroma as they came in from swinging.

This gift is giving more than I ever anticipated. And given the hundreds of photos already loaded, I cannot imagine being tired of it.

My daughter has barely begun adding snapshots – which she can do from home. My stepdaughter is adding from Los Angeles. She is a professional photographer and now her art is being displayed on my miniature gallery.

How happy can you be with one Christmas present? As it turns out, great big gobs of happy. With thank yous that will never stop. Perfecto.

Marcy O’Brien is an award-winning member of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists. She lives with her last husband, Dear Richard, and her bipolar Maine Coon cat, Finian.