December 7, 2015

Some Dreams are Forever

Christmas is the time for reflecting and reminiscing.  And what kid doesn't spend more than a little time dreaming of what is to come as the season unfolds.  Well, it's not only  kids who can while the time away in a reverie of thoughts, but certainly as I remember, there was a great deal of dreaming on my part when I was but a youngster and December rolled around.

It usually began in November as the date of birthday crept forward and finally arrived.  What, I wondered, would I find wrapped up and surrounding the homemade cake topped with candles just for me.  We were by no means materialistic youngsters growing up in our house.  But the days and moments leading up to that special day were filled with anticipation and dreaming.

Usually along about that time the mailman delivered the JCPenney Wishbook.  That slim mail order edition was pure magic in our eyes and many hours were spent paging slowly through the catalog and dreaming of "what ifs" and "if onlys" that could somehow be.  I recall the pages depicting the realistic play kitchens with little girls in dresses and bobby socks gleefully practicing their domestic skills just like their mothers.  Young boys drove full sized pedal cars that so resembled the real thing.  The kids all looked so very happy on the pages of that Wish Book.

I particularly enjoyed the section filled with musical instruments:  the guitars and flutes and trumpets and pianos.  And the drum sets.  I really wanted one of those.  Page after page after page of delights were there in full color to please the eye.  And tempt the soul. There was even a section filled with Christmas trees and decorations of every sort. And festive holiday attire, and table settings, and gadgets and appliances galore.  It was a veritable feast for the eyes. 

It didn't take long to amass a long list of wishes:  Spirograph set, Lincoln Logs, Tinkertoys (the deluxe set of course), Barbie dolls and accessories, Troll dolls, a sewing kit, the frilly princess costumes complete with high heels.  The list went on and on I'm sure.  

We knew that our family probably could not afford most of the toys found in those pages of that magical book, but it never stopped us kids from dreaming and wishing. And we always received at least one very special gift chosen specially for each one of us.  How wonderful and what a blessing to have been taught to appreciate what we had.

They sell those Wish Books on e-bay now.  The really old "vintage" models from the 1970s sell for upwards of $45.00 each. Hard to imagine, isn't it.

One year I wanted nothing more than my very own Crissy doll.  This was no ordinary doll mind you.  She was taller than a Barbie and deemed a beautiful fashion doll.  But the best thing about Crissy, besides the color of her glowing red hair, was the fact that it could magically grow to floor length in a lovely shiny cascade.  Then with the crank of a button on her back, it could be shortened. I just knew that Crissy had to belong to me somehow, some way.  

And so I hinted and I begged and I dog-eared the page in the Wish Book where Crissy dolls were listed.  I did everything in my power to let it be known that more than anything else in the world, I wanted a Crissy doll of my very own.  That year, about my 10th, my birthday celebration consisted of yet another pink birthday cake (my special request of course), and being made to feel like the princess of the day in our house.  

I recall I even had a couple of girlfriends over to help to celebrate the milestone birthday.  I recollect confiding to them that I thought I was going to get a Crissy doll for my birthday that year. I was so sure of it.  Dreams don't always come true like you expect them to and that year for my birthday I received many wonderful gifts. But no Crissy doll.

So soon the birthday was over and then came Thanksgiving and then the Christmas season was in full swing. And so was the Wish Book dreaming.  You can bet that thoughts of Crissy did not leave my head.  Christmas so quickly rolled around and the anticipation was finally over.  The time had come for us to exchange gifts around our tree, and we did so in a meaningful manner, thoughtfully gifting one after another between family members. Each gift had been carefully chosen and purchased with hard earned dollars.  Truly the gift of love was in the air around our Christmas trees every year.

The last gift I opened, of course, was a Crissy doll.  My very own.  I don't imagine I slept that night but if I did, it was clinging tightly to my new treasure.  I still have my Crissy doll and I can't imagine ever parting with her.  Why would I give up something that I had dreamed so long to have.

After all, some dreams are meant to hold onto forever, no matter how big or small they are.