From commerce command central, my daughter updates our household on the latest and greatest available for your shopping pleasure and her enjoyment. She has exhausted the computer keys surfing the websites of Target and Gamestop, thoughtfully offering a comparative analysis of where I can save the most money in fulfilling her Christmas list which extends well beyond what she has already formally requested from Santa. Oh … to be nine again. ~
When I was a kid, I began my tradition in November upon the hallowed arrival of the Sears & Roebuck Wish Book. Insert opera music here in reverence as there was no finer piece of literature ever published than those glue bound pages of toys and treasures.
I wore that book out, pouring over the possibilities of dolls, tea sets, racetracks, BB guns, Lincoln logs, Easy Bake ovens, and banana-seated bicycles.
I made lists, alphabetizing, categorizing, and meticulously adding and removing items as I changed my mind about the relevance of a game like Operation versus the thinking game of Scrabble. I obsessed over the importance of the cage swing versus the see saw on the gym set.
I left that book frayed and dog eared as I poured over the pages, skipping only the full-figured women in their Craftsman brassieres and the men in their bright white tighties.
I was consumed with what I might get for Christmas. I prayed to Santa, Jesus, and my Mom to please, please, please provide me with the 80 or so things that I wanted from the Wish Book. Of course, that never happened. I am sure Santa had access to my conduct grade; Jesus isn’t really into the material side of his birthday, and my Mom? Well, she was doing the best she could to gift five kids on my Dad’s working man’s paycheck.
In a look back at my childhood, the only Christmas presents I clearly remember involve the year that I received the “big baby,” a huge baby doll that weighed in around 10 lbs, and some scissors. The baby had long blonde hair and I had new scissors … you figure out the rest.
What I most remember about Christmas …
... the cedar tree that we cut down in the woods and lugged to our house, complete with colored bulbs and tacky, silver tinsel. (I loved that tree.)
... my Mom cooking a huge breakfast accessorized with biscuits and gravy.
... my Granddaddy threatening to shoot Santa and assorted reindeer if they flew over his house on Christmas Eve.
... all my cousins and siblings playing, fighting, and being kids.
... singing Christmas carols in a little country church with an off-key, yet enthusiastic choir that had more heart than talent.
I am not sure what Christmas Day will bring for my daughter. Not all of the things in her ever growing Target.com shopping cart will arrive on Santa’s sleigh. I understand her dreaming. All that time over the Sears & Roebuck Wish Book was good training ground for me too.
In the end, what I got for Christmas, what I most treasured and now most miss … as John Boy-Jim Bob-Mary Ellen-Walton-Bing Crosby-Christmas Special as it sounds … was what I had all year long.
Peace and love to all.