Gift getting & giving
By Shin Freedman
It's the time of the year when we exchange gifts generously with friends and family members. It's a beautiful custom. As a child growing up in the 1950s, I recall fondly that this custom of getting gifts of sweets, fresh fruits or, on a rare occasion, Western-style cake was unusually exciting so that I could never forget it after all these years. Interestingly, the gifts were for my family, not for myself or my sisters. That the abundance of food available at the end of the year often stretched to mid-January of the first full moon was easy to recall.
My neighbor Peter and his wife invited us to a Christmas dinner. After a delicious Italian traditional meal of gnocchi with sausage, Peter turned on the starter switch for his antique toy train set during dessert. His train set was special because the train even had a postal delivery car along with tiny puffs of smoke. Though the host and the dinner guests are all senior citizens, we instantly became childlike watching the train, smoke and whistles from the toy train set.
This antique train set holds an intricate story of how Peter had lost and found it. As the story goes, after Peter left home to go to college and subsequently to medical school, his mother cleaned their attic and decided to give the train set to Peter's younger relative. She was sure that a grownup man would not miss his childhood toy. Upon discovering the missing train, Peter protested and persuaded his mother to get it back. Eventually, the train returned to Peter. The current dinner guests are ever grateful to watch the train travel around the decorated Christmas tree in Peter's study.
Christine, Peter's wife, has a doll collection in her living room. Dolls old and new, from the West and the East, from her childhood through to now are ever present and a frequent table topic around the holiday season. “Where did you get this doll from?” a dinner guest asks. “I collected it during my travels around the world,” she answers.
When I was about five years old, I once received a doll as a gift. It was a gift for all my siblings including my two older sisters. Because I was the youngest girl in the family then and hadn't reached school age, I had more time to play with the doll. This doll was amazing because it came from America. She had blue eyes with long, blonde braided hair. She wore a pretty dress with patent leather shoes and lacy folded white nylon socks. At the time, I had never seen any girl of my age or dolls who dressed so fancy. Sadly, my mother took it away to exchange it for something more useful for all of us, not just for the girls in my family.
It happened so long time ago, yet I still think of the doll as if it happened yesterday. Will there be another doll with whom I spend a day after 65 years? What would it mean to find such a doll nowadays? Would I share the excitement of meeting my doll with my grandkids? Would I be brave enough to tell the story of how much I cried not to let go of my doll then? What if I find the same doll again, what stories would I be able to share with my grandchildren? Maybe I should give this gift to myself so I can pass it on.
Shin Freedman (shinfreed@gmail.com) is the author of "Accidental American."