Recently, I read a story a man had written where he fussed and fumed about his father never buying him any good Christmas gift. Well, I shook my head in disbelief.
You see, my Dad was a really busy man. He taught school 5 days a week, he taught piano after school to so many of the kids I went to school with. He also played the organ at the local Congregational Church, was the director of the Senior and Junior Choirs, and also directed the Handbell Choir. Each year Dad directed a Christmas Carol sing on our town’s Village Green. Not to mention playing the organ for many weddings and funerals.
So each year Dad would go down to the local Pharmacy or 7/11 Grocery Store, whichever was open on Christmas morning and did his Christmas shopping for us.
Here I am, at the age of 12, on Christmas Morning with the gifts that Dad got for me. Notecards, a horoscope book, hat and gloves, a little kitty, and two dolls.
I wish I could sit down with that man who complained and tell him how lucky I feel that my Dad went out before I woke on Christmas to get these things for me. He did it every year. Sometimes I got life-saver candies, sometimes some Christmas candy. Sometimes chapsticks. Sometimes a teen magazine. But he shopped on his own and bought these things for me all by himself.
My Dad did the very best he could, all on his own, and I feel like I was pretty lucky!
Mom did the big shopping. And it was pretty good too. Mom also cooked the best Christmas breakfasts and Christmas dinners. She was a traditional Mum.
But all in all, looking back now, I think I was pretty blessed all around. I didn’t have to have my Dad buy me the world to show me that he loved me. His Christmas Day shopping sprees mean more to me now than he will ever know.