My favourite things about Christmas presents.

Christmas morning, sorting the presents!

When I was a kid, I could barely contain the excitement of Christmas morning.

Along with my four brothers and two sisters, I woke before dawn and threw myself upon my Christmas stocking. I honestly do not remember what order (order?) we followed to unwrap gifts, but I remember the absolute glee of the feast of presents.

As I got older, I found joy in giving, and in seeing what others had purchased or made for the people I love. It was a reflection of the giver and the receiver.

As a parent, I grew through the stage of wanting to give each child every single thing she or he had requested. Indeed, we did so, even when we knew that the much-hyped product would likely be a disappointment. It was hard, seeing the initial exuberance deflate, but it was necessary in its own way.

But one of the latest surprises about Christmas gift-giving has been observing the gifts my children give to each other.

I shouldn't be surprised, but I almost always am, at how thoughtful the gifts are. The giver is at least as excited as the recipient. Often, I think, "Wow. I wouldn't even have thought of that, but it is absolutely perfect."

In that unwrapped parcel, I see, not just a thing, but an expression of a relationship: how one child sees the other, cares for the other, and strives to please and delight him or her.

It is one of the best moments of motherhood.

Peter's stocking. Our children have outgrown these tiny stockings,
but I don't think we will ever be able to part with them.

On the giving side, while I am very grateful that we can afford to give our children relatively "big" gifts, I honestly have much more fun filling the stockings. Dollar-store trinkets, juvenile toys, surprise finds, like this one:

And it really lights up!

A  miniature replica leg lamp Major Award, from A Christmas Story, which I tucked into Steve's stocking. In case you haven't seen the movie, here is the pertinent clip.



Steve suggested we put it "right in the middle of our front window," but I'm afraid it would not have been visible from the road, so he shall have to display it on his desk at work.