Your Best Gifts
Sometimes, the best gifts you purchase and receive come at Christmas, but they aren’t always the best ones of your life. When looking back on my life, I have celebrated 67 Christmases and although each was special, each was different. When I was small, my mom saved all year, to purchase a few things my sibling and I had mentioned we liked in that old Sears and Roebuck catalogue. She also gave my sister and me a one-place setting of silverware too, and although we rolled our eyes and asked why we would possibly want a knife, a fork and a spoon every single Christmas forever, when I became an adult, I understood and still have that silverware until this very day. I remember every doll’s name I ever received, and the Barbie doll I took special care of, as there would only ever be one; she was eventually joined by a Ken doll, one very special Christmas. Both my sister and I were taken on a shopping trip each Christmas, with my father’s mother (my Nana,) and tried on several different holiday dresses, only to choose the ones that she liked the best, but she was probably right in her choices. These dresses hung on the inside cellar door, which was located in our living room, right next to our artificial tree, for all to see. I do not remember Christmas stockings, although we must have had them. I remember Barbie clothes that my Mom made in her spare time, which there was none of, but she took the time anyway, and fake, plastic wigs, which my cousins and I wore around for fun and socks and underwear. She made sure to give us what we needed. My grandmother’s ribbon candy and homemade fudge were two of my most special memories of this very special day. After present opening, she would bring out the birthday cake for Jesus and we would sing Happy Birthday to the man of the day; I must admit, as a kid, I scoffed at this because candy canes were waiting next door at my cousins’ house, where we were headed next to get our presents from my aunt and uncle, but now I am thankful she did this ritual.
I have loved so many gifts I have received throughout the years from my loved ones and friends and when others enter my home and see the organized clutter, they may wonder why I have so many things on display. Being a minimalist is fine, and certainly easier than cleaning a home that has something special either taped to a pane of glass, hanging from the ceiling, magnetized to the refrigerator or displayed proudly. My own children have been gone from my home for 16 years, yet still their theater and music room still exists, with all their awards and framed musical photos and instruments that haven’t been all loaned out yet, still in place. Their friends are in those photos and many of my old students are smiling at me when I dust these 16x20 frames of hard work and dedication. Add to my children’s American Girl Dolls that are displayed and all their Disney snow globes, which are in what should be a China cabinet, and the nine grandchildren’s drawings and poems and special handmade gifts and photos they have given me, and one would know, I really need a larger house. We make do, however, as I reorganize and rearrange all the special things I cannot bear to part with, just yet.
Among some of my special of gifts have come from children because they really think about what would make me smile when they set out to draw something or make something. I received a rose-bud Christmas tree decoration from my eldest daughter when she was a Kindergartener, and although it has seen better years, I still make sure it comes out at Christmastime. She was given three dollars to go to her afterschool Christmas bazaar and was told she could buy what she wanted. This is what she came home with and told me that she knew I loved roses, so a rose tree was just perfect. I still see the look of pride on her face, as she handed it to me. Additionally, a cardboard shoe box with hand-drawn pictures of our family remains in my home. My youngest daughter wanted to make me something special and so every dog, cat, gerbil, bird and rabbit was included in our family-drawn box. I remember her sisters laughing when she presented it to me, but it was to no avail, because she was proud of her work and it was immediately put on display, thus making her feel special. Every time I look at it, I smile. My middle child, although my scrapbooks of her youth are full of her photos and self-portraits, once gave me a framed pencil-drawn masterpiece; it was a drawing of herself, with the school’s auditorium in the background, a pair of toe-shoes and theatre masks in the foreground and an obvious tear on her cheek. As I had just recently divorced, she also decided to include her hands in this drawing; a separated left finger, bereft of a ring, spoke loudly to me of the personal pain she was in, due to the changes in her life. She made me more caring to my children, with this gift, although it was not her intention to bring me anything but joy.
Poetry (and they were all good writers,), CD’s with all three of them singing some of my favorite songs, headache and backache aides, Amish dolls, a black onyx ring, tickets to musicals, stained glass window hangers, clothing, photos of my grandkids, trips to here and there, music (for piano and easy or rowdy listening,) and jewelry (my passion) were showered upon me. One year, they all bought me three different kinds of necklaces, although the idea was the same. After my mom passed away, the following Christmas saw me with three necklaces hanging from my neck with her photo enclosed. I loved this jewelry, but I want them to know, I still have the macaroni bracelets they all made for me when they were young.
Throughout the years, I tried my best to shower them with things they needed, wanted and I tried very hard to always have a major surprise for the three of them on Christmas morning. Christmas was a special time of giving and I wanted to ensure their anticipation of such a wonderful holiday was not thwarted. They all understood the meaning of Christmas and had all been parts in countless Christmas Nativity scenes in our church, but the specialness of the birth of Christ made me ponder the best things I could possibly present them with on that holy morning. My love of Christmas and gift giving has continued to my grandchildren, so one might assume that my children’s houses are filling up too. The looks on their faces, as they rip open the “somethings special,” just for them, is worth anything to me. Being a child at Christmas only happens once.
As previously stated, so many wonderful gifts have been bestowed upon me in my life, but the redecoration of my home, the sewing of bed sheets to my ripped couch to make it look like a new couch and the painting of rooms to surprise me, have always made me grin. I remember me, with my eyes closed, being led into the room of their redoing. Upon being told to open my eyes, I had to sneak a peek at all their eyes first to see the absolute joy in their faces, at being able to do such a great thing for me. Their last redecoration just happened 9 months ago, as they moved my husband’s and my bedroom from upstairs to downstairs. So much work!
I know that my life mirrors your own, as your special gifts, those you have given and those you have received, have been daily reminders of those you love. I sincerely hope that everyone’s Christmas is full of joy; remember to spread that joy to those who have very little, as they need to feel the spirit of Christmas and Good Will. The Mountain Eagle and I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and encourage you to give the gift of reading to yourself. Our newspaper is on sale, just about everywhere.
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