Christmas reflections Part FIVE 2018

One of my most memorable gifts at Christmas time came as a girl of around age 8 or 9, I think. My grandmother would always bring us those huge Sears and Roebuck catalogs at the beginning of the Christmas season. My brothers and I would fuss over who would get it first and then would spend hours methodically turning page after page and circling each item that was a must have and then carefully initial it so anyone who cared would know who wanted what.

I never was a baby doll person. In fact, I was a little worried about being a mom because I was never really into babies. Babies can not communicate what’s wrong, and as a problem solver by nature, that always made me uncomfortable. How can you fix something you cannot figure out what is broken? So, instead of babies, I was a Barbie doll fanatic...along with toy ponies and horses. Barbies and horses, what more could a girl want?

Now this particular year, one of those delicate pages revealed something stunning. Something beautiful. Something absolutely magical! Barbie (and Melody’s) DREAM HOUSE! It was two stories with doors that opened. Bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, bathroom, EVERYTHING that could possibly make Barbie completely happy and it was beyond my wildest dreams. I knew it was big! I knew it was impossible to wish and hope for but I carefully circled it just in case dreams really do come true.

Now, as Christmas drew near, I carefully studied the packages that were stacking up under and around our tree. NOTHING came close to being big enough for that dream house to fit in. Inside, I was sad just a little but I understood. It was just too much! It was too expensive, at least I had heard some adults use that word. It was just too big of a dream. So I breathed deeply, accepted my fate, and drew excitement from all the other meticulously wrapped presents that bore my name.

On Christmas morning, as I stumbled out of bed in my flannel Christmas nightgown with the cutest little ruffles around my wrists, my heart began to beat rapidly in anticipation of what was to come. My hair was a wild mess around my face. Excitement bubbled in the air. My brother, Douglas Edday, and I giggling with anticipation. My brother, Mark, was excited but he was older and more mature than us so there probably wasn’t any giggling going on from him just a big grin plastered on his face. Mom and Dad held us at bay until we heard the crunch of tires on the driveway which meant Grandma, Aunt Patsy and Grandpa had arrived. I could barely contain myself and thought they took forever to just park the car and come inside! As they came in I quickly took their coats and ran them upstairs and flew back down the stairs in hopes we could quickly get on with the show. Sure enough, permission was granted and we barely touched the stairs as we raced down to the basement where the magic of Christmas was alive and well.

I remember that Mark and Doug beat me to the bottom of the stairs but for me it didn’t matter. Everything stopped. My heart stopped. My breath stopped. Everything faded from my vision except the most beautiful sight this little girl had ever seen. There sat the most beautiful dream house in the world. Pink and purple and creamy white perfection. I didn’t know where to look first....the front door that really worked or the open back. I didn’t know what to touch first.....the perfectly shingled roof or the smoothest floors I had ever seen. I was full of squeals and delight, giggles and hugs. I did eventually move on to the other gifts but inside, the excitement was hard to contain. My wildest dream...my hope beyond hope had really come true. For me that year, Christmas was perfection wrapped up in a house built for a little girl and a Barbie doll.