As a kid, Christmas presents were only opened on Christmas morning. That’s it. It wasn’t until we were older that we could open something on Christmas Eve. and if we ever did, it was one thing, but the rest had to wait. It would take some major begging to open more than one item before Christmas. Then all the joy would be sucked out of it with the ordeal of the begging.
We always had Christmas at home. Easter was always at my grandparents house. (My mom’s side.)
When I was a teenager, we made the trip to grandma’s a couple times for Christmas. Quite an ordeal, and only done once or twice.
It always amazed me that as we would go shopping, and bring gifts home to covertly wrap them, the goodies under the tree seemed to be more than plentiful. Then over night, on Christmas Day, all the empty stockings would be filled to overflowing, and the presents under the tree seemed to expand and fill not just the space under the tree, but the whole corner, and surround the tree. At first I was thrilled that Santa really came. Later, I was amazed over, where in the world did mom and dad hide all that stuff? I thought my brother and I had snooped into all the crevices in the house where presents could hide.
With our kids, We usually started with reading the account from Luke 2, then I would crawl under the tree to pass out presents. Later, the kids took over that job.
I love those early years when the kid is more fascinated by the paper, and the box the gift came in, than the gift itself. I also learned early on that gifts from Santa are the ones like socks, or long johns. The good toys always came from mom and dad. Why worship a fictional man in a red suit, when it was mom and dad who did the giving. You’re throwing away all the praise and love to the air. You might as well revel in it.
We never had cats, or other pets, to make the holiday ornaments tempting to both child and beast. I would have been mortified if we knocked over our tree, but our kids seemed to do it at least once every year. When I had a guide dog for a while, he would lap up the water from under the tree… that’s why you put it there, right? He was also responsible a few times for knocking over the tree, intrigued by some shiny, dangling thing or other.
We did pull a trick one year. We had a pile of gifts hid in the closet, and as we got ready to leave to visit grandma, I took the kids to the van and kept them occupied, so they wouldn’t notice how much time went by. Robin, under the pretense of leaving her purse, or a last moment trip to the restroom, went back in, unloaded the closet, and we made the trip.
Later, back home, a new pile of toys had mysteriously showed up under the tree, and even though the kids were mostly past the stage of believing in Santa, they did for that year. Even later when we told them how we did it, they still refuse to believe that Santa didn’t come for a visit.
Favorite toys, or gifts?
I know that often the most beloved present, or that thing you just had to have this year, fades into memory. After the countless number of gifts I’ve had, several come to mind. A Monopoly game, a monster making kit, string art, a Hot Wheel track, but the most memorable is an electric train set. It was one of those expensive gifts I had to share with my brother… well, both our names were on it, but we also had to share with dad. After the pile of gifts were ripped open with the typical abandon, we left them all behind, and cleared the kitchen table. The three of us spent all morning putting track together, making sure any assembly was done to the engine and cars, and cooperating in building our railroad with less argument or tension than we might if we were playing a board game, or sharing any other toy.
We all protested when mom had lunch cooked, and forced us to take the track apart so we could eat. . we could have went on playing with the train until supper time. With all the candy nuts, and goodies… who needs a square meal.
Moms… go figure. It’s like they want to see you get a balanced, nourishing meal or something.
The train was the focus for the afternoon, then not long afterwards, dad came home with a sheet of plywood, fake grass, and other bits of model scenery to give our track a permanent home.
We agreed on a track layout, and tacked it to the plywood, sat up the street crossings, signs, bridge, and other things a respectable model train ought to have as it endlessly ran the circuit of its course. We even mounted the power pack and controllers on the under side of the plywood, so as to be handy, but unseen. To store it, and return usable space in the basement where we ultimately constructed our masterpiece, we put pulleys on it, and made it so it could be raised or lowered up to the rafters with a pull on a cord.
As much fun, and bonding the train set brought between father and sons, that first morning was the best.