Nurse Preceptor Gifts Novels & Stories

With the Ember Festival gifts in hand, the six of them made their way to the nursing home. They had also prepared small gifts for the doctors and nurses who looked after Isabelle. Isabelle was still as frail as ever, her eyes vacant. Celeste, Betty, and the others stood where Isabelle couldn't see them, watching as she showed no reaction to the gifts the doctors had brought on their behalf. The nurse placed the gift box prepared by Betty in Isabelle's hands, but she barely seemed to notice it. After glancing at it briefly, she let it fall to the floor as if it meant nothing to her.

I told the chef. I was once again pulled away from my food to open a few presents. I was glad I didn't have to open all of them now, because the table they had set up and thought would only have a few. Was now overflowing with gifts, and gifts on the ground and they keep coming. "Nick, I don't think we have to buy furniture for our house," I whispered to him. "I told you," he whispered back. We only pulled four gifts for our guests to see which were: walkers, breast pumps, bottles and wine, with a note that said 'for one of those days'.

“The knot comes undone and pulls the paper with it.” I followed her instructions and tugged. The wrapping fell away, revealing the gift. It was a beautiful, leather bound book with creamy, hand made paper pages. The leather was stamped with my name, and the symbol used to denote a healer. There was also a small box containing a beautiful calligraphy pen, with several small bottles of ink in vibrant colors. It was a magnificent gift, a healer's journal. It was something I was meant to fill with my observations and techniques. Something I would lend to other healers, and leave to my protege, perhaps, or donate to a pack library.

I wonder if it is because I am appreciated now that I am leaving or because of who I am married to. My Head of department is a master of ceremonies of sorts for this farewell function and he regales us all of tales of when I first started all those years ago. My phone starts ringing in the middle of speeches and I quickly press mute as I am presented with a gift. I am touched that my co-workers took the time to buy me a gift. I unwrap the small, elongated rectangular box to find a beautiful brand name watch inside. “Look at the inscription,” someone yells. I turn the exquisite watch over. It reads, “May you always remember the time spent with us fondly.”

“You know, Dema, in our culture, it’s customary to bring a gift when visiting someone in the hospital. Especially someone like your mother in law, as her daughter in law you must bring her a gift.” Tala nodded in agreement. “A thoughtful gift, something that shows you care. Flowers, perhaps, or some nice fruit. Maybe a beautiful scarf, or a small prayer rug.” The idea resonated with me. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the right thing to do. A way to show Layla that I cared, that I was thinking of her. “That’s a wonderful idea,” I said. “Thank you. I’ll go out and get something today.”

I confirmed. After ending the call, I spent a couple of hours reading before heading out to buy gifts. At exactly two o'clock, I arrived at the nursing home. The taxi driver kindly helped me unload the gifts from the trunk. "Jen, why did you buy so many things?" Patty asked, her face beaming with joy as she greeted me. She had arrived a bit earlier. "I haven't seen them in a while. This is just a small token of my appreciation." "You may not have seen them in a while, but you still send money every month. You're not related to them, yet you do so much."

“I feel like I wasn’t there enough.” “But when you’re here, you’re really here. That’s far more valuable than someone whose body is present but whose mind never stays with their family.” I let out a long breath. The guilt I had carried for so long began to loosen. Liam took my hand and led me to the living room. There was a large gift box with a silver ribbon waiting. “What’s this?” I asked, confused. “A graduation gift,” he said. I untied the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a white medical coat—different from regular ones, elegant and custom-made. On the left chest was a detailed embroidery:

I opened Elder Thomas's gift—a handmade leather journal with my Luna symbol embossed on the cover. “For recording your innovations,” Thomas said gruffly. “Someone should document the changes you're making.” I hugged him, surprising us both. Christian received specialty coffee beans from Brazil from Marcus, who remembered a casual remark from months ago. The exchange strengthened bonds through demonstrated thoughtfulness and care. Late that night, Christian and I escaped to our room for a private gift exchange. I gave Christian a journal to document his Alpha journey, its cover stamped with Shadow Ridge's symbol and the date we met.

Not only that but I was going to need to explain it to Andrew if we had to return anything. I knew he would be okay with it because this wasn’t the first time he had received a gift like this. Last year he made friends with another patient that kept giving him cards and stuffed animals he had received from his family members. As expected, Andrew understood and told me that he didn’t care because it was the thought behind the gift that counted.

Gift seventeen. I didn’t speak. I’d been mute for a while now, I couldn’t speak. He kept going, bespoke London trench coat tailored for me. Gift eighteen. A private beach dinner lit by lanterns, fire dancers performing for me. I danced with me, Crest kept laughing, filming the entire thing. Gift nineteen. A sapphire birthstone ring, elegant, breathtaking. Gift twenty. He slid it onto my finger, kissed my knuckle slowly. I shivered. Back in the villa, he handed me a beautiful leather journal embossed with my initials. Gift twenty one.