It was after midnight one cold Christmas Eve years ago when the dad returned home after a long, grueling day of work during one of the company's Christmas shutdowns. After a quick bite to eat, he went right to work to assemble a complicated swing set in the back yard. Around four o’clock Christmas morning, he tumbled into bed.
Not an hour later, the children began to call, “Can we get up and see what Santa brought?”
The mother quickly slipped from bed and went to each child’s room. “It’s still dark outside. Santa hasn’t come yet. Go back to sleep. When daylight comes, it’s time to get up.” She stayed with both children until they fell back asleep. Then, she closed their blinds.
However, daylight still came too soon that Christmas for sleepy parents. Before long, the children, two and four, tumbled out the door, followed closely by mother and daddy.
“ A swing set! Santa brought a swing set!” the two-year old little boy clamored. He darted from one swing to another where he, lying on his stomach, moved himself back and forth. Then, he ran to the slide and slid down. Next he tried to reach the swing bar. With a little help he grabbed the bar and held there a moment. Then he dropped to the ground and ran back to a swing.
The four-year-old little girl, was more hesitant. She walked around and examined every aspect of the apparatus. Finally, turning back to one of the swings, she ran her hands over the letters. “S-E-A-R-S - Sears!” She read. “I see that Santa shops at Sears, too.” she whispered, then sat in a swing and began to push to and fro.
Recently, both on television and in real life, I’ve overheard several fond reminiscences about the old Sears Wish Book, the catalogue that once arrived in most homes sometime in November every year. It was such a popular item, that family members had to take turns to linger over each page. Usually, the whole family, parents and children, would gather together for the first perusal of the pages.
“I want this,” one child would point to an item.
“I want that,” another made his claim.
Before all the pages had been turned, wants had changed.
In the recently overheard remembrances, some people even recalled which toy, selected from the Wish Book, that they had actually received. Mention this book to almost any adult and watch the wistful look on their countenance as each person remembers the fun of the Wish Book. This year, the wish book appears in the company’s televised ads with the saying, “Don’t just buy a gift, grant a wish.” And while the ad arouses a bit of nostalgia, it’s just not the same.
Today, television ads, not only from Sears, but from every company, blitz the screen. I doubt if any child can recall when and where he first saw the item that became his heart’s desire. Likewise, children are often so bombarded with toys year round, it’s hard for them to find something new to want.
My parents never let me forget one of my Christmases. Evidently, when I was a year older than the little girl with the swing, I asked them, “What did you give me?” I looked around at the abundance of gifts surrounding me. “Santa gave me all of this; Uncle Fred and Aunt Betty gave me that; Uncle Curtis and Aunt Geneva that, Grandmother, this...” And the list went on. My parents explained that my new Christmas dress, which my mother had made, was from them, but from that Christmas on, I received one less present from Santa and one more which bore their names.
Now, this column is not intended to praise the olden days nor to criticize the abundance many American children enjoy. Olden days had its share of problems, too, and from this tale my parents loved to tell, I, as an only child, received more than my share of gifts. But I must wonder what will create nostalgia in today’s young when they are grown. Will they look back on their own television set or the Internet or the IPod or the cell phone with fond memories? What will they tell their children about their Christmases long ago? I wonder...
2007
I love this story!