How old are children when they begin to focus on the giving aspect of the holidays? It happens pretty early, in my experience. There’s a wonderful story in CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN in which one of the sons, no more than 7 or 8, wriggles with pent-up excitement as his parents, brothers and sisters open up his gifts — tacky ashtrays for a group of nonsmokers. The young person in my life was about the same age, I think, when he started to care as much about what he gave as what he got.
When I was 8, I decided that nothing would do for my sister but the new Sonny and Cher album. (I was 8!) (Yes, I said “new.” And “album.”) But albums cost between three and four dollars then, a sum far outside my means.I told my father of my dilemma, and he decided to use it as an object lesson in gambling. He would give me three dollars, he said, if I could beat him at something he called the “No” Game. He would ask me a series of questions and, no matter what he asked, I must reply no, every time, no exceptions. Did I understand the rules?
I looked him straight in the eye and said: “No.”
A few days later, I went to Korvette’s, a discount department store that vanished long ago, but I think I could still draw a diagram of its floors, where the records were in relationship to the books and the pet section, which was filled with murky fish and turtle tanks. I bought the album, the one with “I Got You, Babe” on it. Looking back, I doubt it truly thrilled my sister, who had unusually good musical taste for an 11-year-old, but she faked it pretty well.
What’s the best gift you ever gave? What’s the best gift you ever got? And have you ever had to fake it?
Oh — and Happy Holidays. (I’m not politically correct, I just happen to celebrate more than one.)
Like Andrea, I have also heard that E.J. Korvettes was named for Eight Korean Jewish War Veterans–what a great place to buy records!
Best Christmas gifts given: I think of two invaluable kitchen gadgets I bought for my Mom. The first, which I think I bought when I was 9 or 10 was a pair of those spring-loaded tongs for pulling things out of boiling water. Mom still had them when she passed away decades later. I also saved my money to buy (on lay away)my Mom an electric frying pan when I was 13 or 14–electric frying pans were “high tech” when I was 13 or 14. I didn’t forget my Dad, but the various ties, books, etc. don’t stand out like the tongs and frying pan.
But the absolutely best gifts were to strangers. When I was a senior in high school, a Mexican immigrant who traded in our grocery store had to go back to Mexico for some immigration issue a few days before Christmas (the sensitivity of the INS hasn’t changed much in 50 years). We had his wife and kids to our house for Christmas day. I drove to pick them up at their “house”–actually a foundation/basement with a roof on it. I had a hard time believing that this beautiful girl who seemed about my age had three little kids was so cheerful and upbeat in what I considered adversity. My sisters and I spent the day playing with the kids and the presents (toys) Mom had bought for them. I tried speaking “Spanish” that was so bad it amused everybody. I still look back on Christmas 1956 as my best ever.
Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year.
it’s amazing how clearly we can recall these things years later. i still remember my partridge family “album” as if i just bought it yesterday. i loved sonny and cher’s show. ub40 does a great cover of “i got you babe”.
The most satisfying gift I ever gave:
My sisters, three and four year younger, often sneaked looks into an old jewelry box I had stuffed with all the trinkets of childhood�from costume jewelry to skate keys, from Cracker Jack prizes to cat’s eye marbles. I hid some highly coveted pieces of loot around the house�nail polish and perfume, jacks and ball, spare change�and wrote a series of clues leading to the little treasures along the way and ultimately to the crammed jewelry box itself.
I can also pace the local Korvette’s in my mind and sometimes that Partridge Family album haunts my dreams.
“Baltimore — Home of the Hof.”
They forgot the extra “f” and if that’s the case, I know several people (myself included) who would *totally* dig such a t-shirt.
The best gift I’ve given, that I recall, was a couple of china-crafted geese (one standing tall, one looking over its shoulder in a “shy” pose) I found in a gift shop that I bought for my mom as a birthday present about 15 years ago. She loved them, especially the latter, which she claimed really “got” her personality. They are still on the mantelpiece.
One correction, one admission:
I think the CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN anecdote actually comes from BELLES ON THEIR TOES, the sequel, which I preferred. It’s a better story, for one thing, about how the Gilbreth’s mother carried on in the wake of her husband’s death. I also like how Ernestine, one of the two co-authors, allowed herself to be the foil in so many stories.
As for the story of the “No” game — it shows up in TO THE POWER OF THREE, but it’s a far less affectionate memory for the character. Also, I think I won only two dollars, but I pooled it with a dollar of my own. And I doubt my father would have made me pay up if I had lost the game, but I think he would have made a point of showing me that only those who can afford to lose can afford to gamble. My father was a good poker player; my first bike was bought with his winnings. But he told me recently that he gave up, in part because “I hated to lose a dollar more than I ever enjoyed winning one.” I’m much the same way.
I’ve never posted here, but read often and thought I would chime in. The best gift I ever received, was Christmas 1989, I was a sophomore at a small, liberal arts college in Towson, MD. My seven year old nephew who lived in my hometown in Upstate New York, gave me the best gift. He collected all the baseball cards for the 1989 Baltimore Orioles and gave me the complete set. I still have those cards, the Ripkin brothers (Cal Jr. and Billy) and all.
I failed that “no” game….EVERY TIME. That’s what you get for being agreeable. Similarly, though, I like every gift people buy for me. I just think it’s nice they bought it. (Cue the U.N. picking up the phone to inquire about my availability.)
Either that or I’m successfully blocking all the psychological ramifications of everyone STILL buying me everything two sizes too big, WHEN I HAVEN’T GROWN IN 15 YEARS.
The best gift I ever gave was at a Christmas party my professional association threw at a family shelter in Alexandria. I’d been told to buy something for a 12-year-old girl, and went out at lunch without a clue.
What caught my eye at the CVS was a deluxe nail-care set, with about 20 different bottles of nail polish and a whole range of filing and shaping tools. It wasn’t something I’d have wanted at 12, but it seemed to be lit up with neon. I bought it, wrapped it and took it to the party.
The girl who received my gift was the oldest of four, quiet and shy; it was clear she’d had to take on a lot of responsibility at an early age. The other kids opened their presents at the party, but she said she wanted to save hers so she’d have something to open on Christmas day.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked.
“A beautician,” she said. “Maybe a manicurist. I love doing my friends’ hair and nails.”
I felt like Santa Claus that day.
Okay, best gifts given:
Sister- In high school I gave her this collectible Barbie doll that she absolutely adored
Mom- I found this old lunch box ornament with a matching Hopalong Cassidy watch that she went wild over
Dad- My dad doesn’t ever need or want anything. The only gift I have ever truly been excited to give him was his MP3 which he flipped over
And this year I’m taking the whole family to see Spamalot on Christmas Eve. I love giving when I can find the perfect gift.
I think the best gift I ever got was from my older nephew Jeffrey when he was a high school senior. I have no kids of my own, so loving Jeffrey is as close as I will probably get to a maternal feeling in my life.
At the time, he was a good student with the blessing – and in his case curse – of a lot of choices for where he was going to go to college, and the decision process was screwing with his head. We had had a lot of conversations on this subject during his first semester of senior year leading up to that Christmas. My gift from Jeff was a three ring binder with a handmade label saying “College 101″, which contained a beautiful letter from him thanking me for all I had done for him with his college choice and throughout his whole life, and how I was like a second mother to him. He then told me he made a donation in my name to an AIDS hospice for which I was on the development committee. Seeing Jeffrey’s unselfishness in remembering others, being grateful, and thanking me was just the best gift ever. He is now a college senior at the University of Delaware, and has had the time of his life. Being able to help frame a good decision on his part was a gift, too.
My father died the winter I turned fifteen. It had always been his job to sneak down the hall in the pre-dawn Christmas light and stuff a five-dollar bill in each child’s Christmas stocking.
I took up that role six weeks after he died.
And I’ll never forget the grateful look in my mother’s eyes.
What lovely stories. I’m tearing up here.
My sister is adamant that she doesn’t want me to spend a lot of money on her. This year, I took it as a challenge and I found something in one of those stores that falls somewhere between junk and antiques (or “junque,” as the sign would have it) that I think will thrill. I’m not posting it here because although my sister avoids the Internet, she might lurk here, if only to monitor my version of our family history.
I just dragged in the door after finishing — I think — my holiday shopping. I did it in two fell swoops this year and I can’t really complain about it. My family is small, my responsibilities few. Still, I’m just wiped out.
But here’s something that brightened my day: A T-shirt concession at a local mall is selling shirts that read: “Baltimore — Home of the Hof.” Perhaps these should be in the Bouchercon 2008 goodie bag?
In defense of mall T-shirt kiosks everywhere, it’s possible that I forgot the second F. The shirt does, however, have a likeness of the Hoff next to the inscription.
One of my favorites that I’ve received was an amaryllis plant given to me by my brother–one of those bulbs that you plant in a pot and a few weeks later you have a flower. It was such a perfect flower, in the middle of winter, and it really struck me that something could grow out of literally nothing, with minimal care. I brought it to my office and watered it daily; my co-workers stopped by to check on its progress.
Another favorite gift was a “baby’s first Christmas” ornament a friend gave me to commemorate my son Matthew’s first Christmas. Matt died 2 weeks later of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, and now every year when I hang that ornament on the tree, I remember the one short, happy Christmas we had with him.
One of my favorite presents that I gave was a set of Bill-Ding clowns (antique stacking toys, circa 1930s) made by the StromBecker company. I hunted them down for my husband, whose grandfather was a founder of StromBecker. The family had very few keepsake StromBecker toys, and I felt that my husband, who was very fond of his late grandfather, should have some momentos. He was very touched to get them.
When my daughter was little, every gift we gave her was the “best gift ever.” We should all be so easy to please….
And yes, I’ve had to “fake it” to some degree when receiving presents that didn’t quite hit the mark– things that were impractical for me, or didn’t quite suit my taste. (None of which I would describe here, at the risk of offending anyone who might be reading this and recognize himself or herself.) Anyone who’s endured the pain of opening gifts under the scrutiny of hundreds (well, dozens anyway) at an engagement party or bridal shower will know what I’m talking about.
I remember Korvettes. Was the lighting in there always freaky or was it just my Korvettes?
The best gift I ever gave was the year my husband and I spent months working on a dollhouse for our nine year old daughter. Now, this is a common gift in most families, but we are supremely unhandy but we pulled it off except for the lighting. She loved it.
The best gift I ever received was this week when that same (and only) daughter and her husband took an old photo taken at a studio when our wedding photographer failed to show up and had an artist do a oil painting rendering using it as a base. Finally a wedding picture.
Over the years. So many presents. Given. Received.
The present I especially remember was … Manhattan Beach, CA. Christmas 1956. My dad was teaching at UCLA that year. We were living in a funky old house on the Strand, which (if my Web sleuthing is accurate) has been bulldozed for condos since the last time I swung by, maybe twenty-five years ago. Alas. Such a house. So many memories for such a short time.
We were only there for a school year. Come June 1957, my dad, with five children to provide for, left academia and signed on with Henry J. and Kaiser Aluminum. We relocated to Belem, Para, Brazil for the next two years or so, while Dad searched for bauxite, exploring the Amazon basin, whacking his machete through the jungles.
Christmas 1956. I was all of four years old and already not exactly your paint-your-fingernails sort of girl. Santa brought me a bright blue metal dump truck that <em>really</em> dumped. You could put four Campbell’s soup cans in the bed. And dump them out. And put them back in. And dump them out. I was in hog heaven.
Another memorable present was something my older brother gave me several years after we got back from Brazil. That Christmas, he took an old cruzeiro coin and polished it up then soldered a small brass safety pin on the back to make me a pin. I still have that pin in a place of honor in my jewelry box forty-some years later.
The best present I ever gave? I can’t remember, but this Christmas we had the serendipity to decide to give the older younger one a gift certificate to <a href=”http://www.borderlands-books.com/index.html”>Borderlands</a>, a terrific SFF/H store out on Valencia. I wanted to stick the gift certificate in a book and we found a signed copy of Pratchett’s first Johnny Maxwell book. I tucked the gift certificate into the book.
Turns out the older younger one had been searching for years for that title. He had the later Johnny Maxwells but wanted to start with #1 and hadn’t been able to find it. The fact that we’d found him a copy — signed — made his Christmas.
I gave Ramla the puppy a squeak toy that she adores to this very day. She is the only one that ever registers the same amount of joy in receiving that I feel when I am buying the perfect gift. Which probably means they aren’t so perfect. Dash always is over the moon about his gifts too.
Greg got me an ipod mini for my birthday two years ago. PINK even. I had been wanting one so badly, but could not justify the expense… I use it every single day, and it still makes me happy. The truth is Greg is not a gift giver ( which is totally cool, I don’t expect him to be) so it was double special that it came from him.