The default Bar Mitzvah gift is money. Eighteen dollars, thirty-six, seventy-two, ninety, a hundred and eighty, three hundred and sixty. The multiples of eighteen come from the Hebrew word chai, meaning life. Giving money in these multiples is both traditional and extremely practical: the boy gets a check, and at thirteen, he mostly wants the money.

This essay is not an argument against that tradition. Most of what you give at a Bar Mitzvah should be money, because most of the guests are not close enough family to give anything else, and because money is the custom.

This essay is about the one or two gifts that are not money.

I.The close relatives

If you are a grandparent, an aunt or uncle, a godparent, or a very close family friend, you often give both. A check, in an envelope, with the expected chai number. And an object, in a separate box, that is intended to last.

The check is the expected part. The object is what the boy will remember, or will be reminded of at twenty-five when he finds it in a drawer.

II.What we have seen work

A watch. A good watch, even if mechanical and serviceable rather than luxury, becomes the watch of his early adulthood. A Tudor, a Longines, a Tag Heuer, a Hamilton. Avoid the Apple Watch; it becomes dated. Avoid the Rolex; it is too much for thirteen.

A pen. A Montblanc Meisterstück, a Pelikan, a Lamy 2000 if you prefer modern. Engraved with the date of the Bar Mitzvah. He will use it for signing things for the next thirty years.

A piece of religious observance. A new set of tefillin, if his family has not already provided them. A nice siddur. A Tanach. These are given by close relatives and are valued.

A wallet or a leather object. A slim leather wallet, a card case, a travel document folder. If he is going to college in five years, these are immediately useful.

The check is the expected part. The object is what he will remember.

A piece of art. A framed print of a place significant to the family. A small painting, if the family has taste for it. Hang it in his room; it moves with him through dorm and first apartment.

A piece of crystal set aside. Two cut-crystal tumblers and a decanter, kept in a cabinet with a card noting that they wait for his twenty-first birthday. The kind of gift that marks a long arc.

V.What we have seen fail

The gift card. Too close to the check without being the check.

The tech object. Obsolete within two years. He will not remember the iPad.

The generic keepsake. A Judaica piece he did not pick out, a commemorative plaque, a framed photo of himself. He will not want to look at these at nineteen.

The sports jersey. Unless it is a specific, signed, investment-grade piece, the jersey will be worn twice and then lost.

VI.For the family

There is also a parallel gift: the one to the boy's parents. A Bar Mitzvah is an enormous undertaking. Months of planning, speeches, logistics. The parents have been living inside the event for a year.

A thank-you gift from a close friend or close family member, to the parents, arriving the day after, is unusual but always appreciated. A Diptyque candle. A Sferra runner. A small piece of crystal. Something that says: the day was beautiful, here is a small thing for the day after.

VII.The long arc

A Bar Mitzvah is a thirteenth-birthday ceremony. The boy is not an adult at thirteen, though the ceremony ritually claims that he is. The right non-monetary gift for him acknowledges both: that he is thirteen and will behave like a thirteen-year-old for some time, and that he is entering a longer life, which the gift will accompany.

A pen that will outlast his college years. A watch that will outlast his first job. A decanter set aside for eight years from now. The whole point of these gifts is that they require him to grow into them.