The Gift of Presence
There was always a lead up to the fateful Christmas morning that gave small glimpses of how great the day would be. There were be small piles of gifts that grew every day, and I remember the excitement and palpable anticipation as we prepared for Santa’s arrival. When Santa came, he brought with him gifts that were unwrapped. These gifts were larger and more expensive, and meant to be immediately played with. They would be sitting there when we woke, as early as possible, and rushed into the living room to enjoy Santa’s blessings — things like a bike, a He-man castle or a G.I. Joe aircraft carrier.
I also recall with great fondness the spirit of childlike joy as we rushed into opening all of the presents at once. And when I say at once, I mean at once. I don’t recall there ever seeming to be an order or any rhyme or reason to our frantic foray into the wrapped toys. All I know was that afterwards there were mounds of colorful wrapping paper and tissue strewn all around the room, presents stacked on each other and two very happy children asking for help to build this or play with that.