doilies from hell

I'm predisposed to like someone who shows up at my door in the morning and leaves my house spotless by the time she leaves in the afternoon. But all predispositions aside my cleaning woman is a very nice person. Brazilian law requires employers to pay a sort of Christmas bonus to their employees of one additional month's salary at the end of the year. Everyone in the office gets a bonus (except my brother and I) and, even though she is not legally my employee, I always give her a bonus at the end of the year. I'm rather egalitarian in my treatment of people and I think she somehow perceives it as kindness, the sort of kindness that must be repaid.

Every year she shows her appreciation with a gift, last year she gave me dish towels, which were very much useful and used, this year she gave me doilies form hell. Or maybe they are just hell-adjacent, since she is a very pious person and probably doesn't shop in hell. They are a sort of glaring florescent white that would have made Rembrandt envious. I smiled and thanked her and put them away in a drawer. Yesterday she cleaned my house and when I came home the doilies had been pulled out of the drawer and introduced into the décor.

My house isn't "decorated" in the strictest sense of the word, it simply has things in it that appeal to me, and my taste runs towards antique-wood-impressionism-traditional. So now I have Gustave Caillebotte on the wall, a majolica centerpiece and the doily from hell on my dining room table.

The writing desk apparently would have been jealous if it too didn't get a little something.

I don't want to offend her, but seriously, isn't it a little cruel and unusual to expect someone to live with florescent doilies? What the hell-adjacent should I do?