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I gave everyone in my family photos from a family trip to Oregon a couple of years ago, and everyone loved them.
 

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I gave my Mom a handmade book of poetry, which I made myself. I had chosen a bunch of poems about motherhood, and transcribed them in hand written calligraphy, and made pressed flower arrangements on the facing page for each poem. I covered with with a fabric and hand crocheted cover. It made her cry.

I gave my Dad a fairly expensive Bowie knife. It made him cry. I had no idea he had always wanted one from the time he was a little boy, but never got one.

I gave my Gramma a little figurine I sculpted of herself, posing in a ballet costume for one of her publicity shots. It made her cry.

I gave my Pa a collection of Cole Bros. Circus posters I had customized with his own clown face. He was a clown and acrobat with that circus before he made it in Vaudeville. They made him cry.

I gave my sister-in-law a silver butterfly brooch that had belonged to my Gramma, for a wedding gift. It made her cry.

They were all tears of joy, thank goodness. I guess if you can manage to make someone cry with tears of joy it must be a pretty good gift.
 
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