Making a Christmas wish list and checking it twice
The snow fell heavily on that Saturday afternoon in December of 1973 as my sister and I laid on the living room floor pouring through the pages of the Sears, Montgomery Ward, and JC Penney holiday catalogs making our wish lists.
H.R. Pufnstuf was blaring from the television, and between episodes were commercials for the most amazing toys that any kid could ever hope for.
I was quite specific about what I wanted for Christmas and broke down my requests into four categories: 1) Items that I absolutely could not live without; 2) Items that I would most likely receive whether they were on my list or not; 3) Stuff that sounded cool but I could live without; and 4) Practical stuff.
Tops on my list were a German Tiger Tank, a set of Britain’s Cold Stream Guard Toy Soldiers, and a Fighting Knights Play Set complete with Vikings and knights.
My sister wished for a record player and my four-year-old brother hoped for Weebles.
I clipped the images and descriptions of each of my requested items from the pages of the catalogues, listed them within my four designated categories, and stuck them in my sketchbook for good luck.
My sister took a break from making her list and pestered my mother to pluck a peppermint candy from the Advent wreath hanging on the wall.
The wreath served as a visual aid for the Christmas countdown, but in my mind it just seemed to make the days go by even slower. My dog Mutt was settled in and stretched out at my feet.
It was like she knew I had a lot of paper work to tend to, and that we would not be venturing outside to play in the accumulating snow.
Instead, my mind was swarmed with hopes of the great miniature battles that would be recreated in my bedroom once my Christmas wishes were fulfilled.
Mitch Lee, Adirondack native & storyteller, lives at Big Moose Lake.ltmitch3rdny@aol.com
