What was the best Cheistmas gift/gifts you received ?Why and who gave it.Santa ? or someone else.
Mountain ash

Mountain Ash, what a thought provoking question. I have to come back to this one, hard to remember...

My best Christmas gift was when my older brother secretly decorated our home for Christmas while we were all in bed asleep. We had been involved with the Jehovah's Witnesses for a good part of my childhood and my parents had finally pulled away. (JWs forbid the celebration of Christmas, birthdays, etc). My little face must have been a picture!!

If you would like to see/read what my best Christmas was, or at least the one I can remember the most, go here:

http://www.boomerwomenspeak.com/display_stories.php?item_id=104

One gift made my my Uncle John was my blackboard and easle.My cousins got ironing board and clothes arier.My am I glad I didn't. He made these gifts when my little cousin was in bed,She gor up one night and afraid she saw "Santa" at work my aunt asked my cousin what was Daddy doing.She said he was making shavings...
That blackboard and my home made registers gave me a grounding in my career.
I got my own grown up ironing board too...as did you girls I am sure.
My Uncle was a cooper..he made barrels for whiskey to age in..clever man..
Mountain ash

My favourite gift was also hand-made - by my Dad. He was an electronics wiz and built me a beautiful record player. I think I was about 11. Having inherited his profound love of music, it was a priceless gift that gave me immeasurable pleasure for many, many years.

I wasn't wise enough to think to hold onto that record player, even though is was well worn out by the time we cleaned out the house after Dad died. But I do still have a teeny tiny doll that "Santa" gave me for my 4th Christmas. It's also one of my all-time favourite gifts. She still sits on my dresser in my bedroom. I tried to give her away several years ago, but had to humbly go back to the little girl I had given my doll to and plead temporary insanity. Thankfully the little girl understood all too well that special connection and was very happy to give my doll back to me - especially since I did give her a new one in exchange. That tiny doll has cuddled me through some very painful childhood years and been a stoic companion through many dark nights of the soul. I'll probably be in my 90's before I try to give her away again!

I"d have to say my "Snuggle Bun (doll) and Play-all Six". She came with a combination Playpen/Stroller/Highchair/Rocking Chair/Swing/High Chair.This thing transformed into all of that!!

Sadly, I was being "prepared" for motherhood...this is why I do NOT give dolls to little girls. FALSE HOPE! But I did love my Snuggle Bun!

My best gift was a new wardrobe from my husband when we first married! I was surprised and had a blast spending money all over the place, Barneys, (my favorite,) Niemans, Nordstroms, Saks! It was fabulous!

I have a separate room for my clothing from all my performances and modeling. I gathered some fine classics and one of a kinds from that. I love to collect clothing and can wear clothes well so I loved the gift so much.

It was also a first gift for only ME in so very long at that time. I had come out of an abusive marriage where all my clothing was performance clothing and nothing was bought just because I liked it. EVERY bit of my clothing up until then was watched by my manager and I felt like a freakin' barbie doll!

Strange as it is, that was it! I know it sounds materialistic but when your whole world is about your body, your job, people around you, it matters very much to you and to them what you wear. To have my own wardrobe, chosen only by me and the freedom that afforded me was excellent.
dancer

My best gift was truly...a real surprise.

About 10 years ago, my partner presented me with several gifts ..at my place. After I opened them, he stepped out onto my balcony...and dragged in the biggie...

It was 6 foot long box...and it was a wooden easel for oil painting. He had bought the thing, got it over to my place when I wasn't home and stored it right there on my balony for 3 days.

and I NEVER knew. I never looked out the balcony during that time, ..it was a big balcony. Probably because I was working during those days..and would get home in the dark.

It was a fantastic gift for myself ...that I still use..either for doing paintings or displaying multiple paintings.

When my grandmother died, I inherited from her an exquisite golden antique bracelet, set with diamonds and opal stones. It's a true treasure and I wear it on all special occasions.
Secretly my husband had earrings made to match the bracelet at the best jewellers in Muenich. They turned out so beautiful that the jeweller displayed them in his show window. To my big surprise, Hubby gave them to me after the birth of our first son. Then he secretly had a necklace made to match the bracelet and earrings and gave it to me at the birth of our second son. I was floored. I think that was about the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.
I just wonder if he would have had bellybutton piercing made to match if I had any more children?

Can I tell you about one of my best birthday gifts...the wee story is beautiful???


Poppie

I'm kneeling right down by your legs Poppie, sitting on my haunches. Where's my cuddly bear? Tell us a story, tell us a story!

I have hated my birthdays since as far back as I could remember… as a child they were none events for reasons of poverty and neglect. I quickly learned to keep my head down and my mouth shut.
Even when I left my home town for Belfast. I remained reluctant to divulge my birthday…most people just knew that I was a wee Piscean and that was that. When the dreaded at drew nearer..I would hibernate and hold up in the bedroom of my home..not answering the phone, nor the door….eventually people got the message.

I was not long dating Celtic when my 35h birthday was to come around. I told her that I wanted no fuss whatsoever. Just a little card would suffice. Celtic, being Celtic was curious as to why I was so adverse to any kind of acknowledgements concerning my birthday and I recounted several sad and pathetic tales of why I felt so.

I trusted that on imparting this information that she would respect how I felt and keep it all low key.

On the eve of this day, she took me over to her flat for the evening…then around 9 in the eve. made her excuses to go and help a friend in distress…I was cool with this! She returned, looking somewhat pleased….and I thought that she had helped out where she could and therefore was happy as a result. We ate some nice food, listened to some great music, chatted and went of to bed to snuggle down just about 20 mins before 12pm. We chatted softly and I marvelled at the fact that Celtic had been so good in respecting how I felt re my birthday.

At ten after 12, Celtic reached under the bed and presented me with a card and a little box. I was only too happy to receive both gifts and when I opened the box…it revealed a single stone engagement ring.

I read my card…filled with sweet beautiful words like kisses…those soft brow kisses that say everything is alright. I cried soft sad tears and slept like a baby thereafter.

On the morn of my birthday, Celtic fussed with breakfast….and we were to leave for my house soon as my neighbourhood a gift for me…’sure why not se it different his year’ sang Celtic as we left for the short drive to my home. I remember singing happily…’and I’m feeling good’…quite despite myself…because I was!!!!

We arrive at mine. I dutifully opened the door and with my impeccable Manners invited Celtic in first….she declined. with a comment such as ‘age before beauty’, this had me giggling at her cheek!!

When I walked down the hall…I remember turning and looking at Celtic and thinking, ‘what is she up to?’

I opened my sitting room door…and wow…..I was blown away…the room was adorned top to toe with balloons, streamers, huge happy birthday signs…gold’s and silvers…cards and a big, big stack of pressies!!!

I couldn’t believe the effort hat Celtic and my neighbour had put in to making that day special.
There were chocolates, beautiful gifts in more beautiful paper…cards from all my family(which was rare…but Celtic had been on the ball on that score)..I was overcome…but in a great way…and of course I indulged in my dearest passion, tears rightly so.

Celtic then suggested that I go to my bedroom to grab some overnight stuff for another night at her flat. I obliged again and when I entered my room….my bed was adorned with even more gifts!!!
I just sat on the floor and cried some more. I opened some more gifts…but the best gift of all that day was the pair of pyjama’s with “truly, madly, deeply” written on the top….sure, wasn’t it my all-time favourite movie with Juliet Stevenson and Rick ‘whateverhisnameis’.

It made me look at so many poignant things…all people were not as I had experienced throughout…and this little Celtic dream..Knows’how to make dreams come true.

I will never forget that day..and none shall surpass it as it was my first birthday, just as Celtic is my first and only love

Poppie

Poppie,
What a great story!You are loved! I think that is one of the best stories I've heard about birthdays! I am a Pisces too and I had sad birthdays as a child. I'd love such a day!
Thanks for sharing,
dancer

What a romantic story Poppie. Gifts out of love are the best gifts of all.

Am I allowed another favourite gift.
It was again hand made.My Uncle made a dolls house for his daughter who was older.Fitted with lights and really lovely.One dark night I saw a "man" carrying a house on his shoulders when I was behind the curtains quiet as a mouse.I was so sure he was Santa that I kept my secret.So Christmas came and I got the refurbished house..I said it was just like Lily's and that Santa was clever.I never told I saw this arriving.And not till later found out that it was indeed Lilys.
This house was passed on and then on my Fiftieth birthday my daughter gave me another.This I filled and recently gave it to the Childrens hospice.One day I shall get another and do the same...
Uncle looked like a giant carrying a real house and made that Christmas magic.
Mountain ash

I think the gifts I was blessed with and the goodness shown allowed me to develop the sense of giving as an act of love.
Also that children need and thrive on kind actions.parties can be put together easily and picnics and special days.
One neigbour took me to the circus and I have never forgotten how nice it was to be included.
A book passed on because its been enjoyed or buying a book that you know will help someone on their journey.Thats what working and having my own income allowed.
Mountain ash

So simple...so basic but when I was really little my Mom loved making handmade dolls, etc. I still have this poor little silly doll made from my dad's old sock with yarn hair and felt eyes and buttons down the front. We're growing old together and I treasure it so deeply now.

I wish I still had my old dolls.

My dad gave me a ring when I was in the 8th grade. An inexpensive thing, made up of a semi-precious stone, a tiny diamond chip and a white gold setting. When I was in the 9th grade, I slammed a door on my hand, which smashed the ring on my finger. He had to cut the ring off my finger, leaving me with two parts of a ring (I somehow lost the back half). Fast forward to the 1980s when my girls, who learned of the sentiment I held to that gift, had the ring repaired. That was a wonderful Christmas gift. I now have a piece of my dad and my girls in that ring.

Another gift (although not Christmas related) ~ precious beyond belief ~ was when my dad came and stood behind me at a family meeting earlier this year. The background is complicated and an explanation would be quite lengthy, so I'll just say that, for once in my 50+ years, I truly felt loved by a parent. This begs me to add, never refrain from reaching out to someone. A simple touch of support can mean so much and crack an outer core that otherwise might be impenetrable.

I also want to add that I've truly enjoyed your gift stories. A gift can be as simple as a smile ~ isn't that great!

Hannelore
tell me about your dolls...

Oh Mountain, they weren’t anything valuable or special, except maybe one German doll, with long blond braids and dressed in a red dirndle. I was just a real doll mommy.
I used to pray every night that they would be alive when I wake up in the morning. Now that’s a good example of God knowing what’s best for you.
My mother never saved my toys for me. But I have saved my sons' toys. And now my granddaughter is enjoying their picture books as well.

gimster, loved your ring story. What thoughtful girls.

I'd have to say my favorite gifts have been cards, photos of the kids in frames, or letters. I'm a sentimental fool.

I also have two CDs in my car that I absolutely love. One is from my oldest son and it's a collection of country music. I listen and think of him making it for me and feel so close to him.

The other is from my youngest son and it's my favorite Christian songs. I listen and wonder how he knew they were my favorites. He's attentive.

I also have enjoyed gifts from Ross that have had to do with taking the family to a show and dinner, family dates.

On my 49th birthday (the big 50 is next year), my husband, daughter and I went to Florida to visit my youngest son at college. We stayed at a nice Hilton in Orlando. After our arrival, there was a knock at the door, which I thought was going to be our Florida son. When I answered the door, both sons were there. Ross had flown our oldest in from Clemson, SC where he was attending college. I felt so blessed to be with my family for a couple days. It's rare we are all together.

These are all such wonderful memories! Poppie's romantic story brought tears to my eyes: those who love us listen to the words in our heart more closely than the words on our lips.

I don't have gifts in the way of material things to share here. I have scars. On 7th December 2001, my SIL was in a head-on car collision which claimed the life of the other driver. SIL was on his way to drop off my older grandson to creche. My grandson, who was only 15-months old at that time, escaped unscathed except for a scratch on his right cheek, which has since left a scar. My SIL suffered a completely shattered right pelvis and right femur. In their place is a plate and a rod and 40-inch scar where doctors incised.

The accident happened 18 days before Christmas. Christmas Day 2001 brought my family scars which will always be perpetual reminders of God's love, care and protection. Gifts of life.

P.S.

Not "40-inch" but scars of 40 staples. The doctors did not sew, they stapled. The incision scar is over 24 inches long.

A Best Gift is….

A greeting form a five year old niece when she hasn’t seen you in a while..
a place where you can laugh, cry or be whatever..whenever..without reproach.
The soft prayer whispered quietly in your name

….once received, never forgotten..
or indeed a sorrow showing one a new direction.

A look that would take tears from a stone when ones heart is at its’ hardest…
the caress from a devotee who knows better and wishes only for the best,

….the truth, even when it hurts like hell.

Sharing a bar of the nicest chocolate on the train,
on a Monday morning…
with that one or two persons, out of twenty who meet your gaze with gentleness.

Praying and staying connected to the god of ones choosing….
the autumn morning that screams…’come play with me’

The poem or prayer that becomes your mantra on any given day...

…the song that one sings which evokes the sweetest of emotions,
the morning you get out of bed,
in spite of the bad weather and mood to equal…
to have the best of days…
despite your sulk and/or brood

Believing your are ‘exceptional’ more than enough to have these gratitude’s keeping you comfort in the wee small hours….and that your ‘gifts’ are closer to God given luxuries that must nearly always be shared….

Is a despair that turns into a hope…

Blessings to remember as you read and….
as you stride fourth(or fifth)…into this day with your cherished heart..

it's the beam you are adorning you face with right now….

for, it is not luck that brings us together to share these donated talents…
and the heave in my heart, just now knows exactly who to thank.


Poppie Coia-Elliott

Nov 14th 07

I told lightly about my home made Christmas gifts..revisiting these memories tell me of my birth family.
This year my best gift was collecting the dearest person on earth for me from the Hospital after a stroke in January.
The recovery is a book in itself...indeed I have during training read such accounts...but each day for me is a gift.
A normal workaday blessing.
I did not share with you all at the time...not knowing the outcome .So far so good.

I have had people enter my life who are true stars and I thank them in each prayer.
These same people do for others what they did for us each day and how I wish them well.
Life is golden.
Mountain ash

I read of other cultures here on the forum and can add to most discussions presenting life for me in Scotland .Like many of my generation it was WW2 that shaped me.
The education acts.What was expected of a girl in the U.K.
I bucked that system.I revisited education rare then Thankfully the norm and but for The Open University I would have never had the opportunity to gain insight and learning.Eight years of study allowed me to become self aware.Qualifications opened doors for me.

But its the wife and mother part of my life that is important.The other professional me is enriching but I am wired to nurture.I saw so much of it and is not second best.I can compare a career and homemaking.I am lucky to have had both.
My Christian faith my husband and family my friends all give me the best gift of all.
.......................................
A home making day
Like many before
Is a joy
My clothesline busy
Dancing socks and t shirts
Other ordinary clothes

A washing up bowl
Full of fairy bubbles
A swept floor
Clean tea towels
Flowers on my windowsill
In an old fashioned vase

Busy hands and mind
Thinking only of home
And family
Soup to make
Meals to plan
Time to read the paper

The paving of my life path
Is made of such days
Blended much like the soup
I have planned
Some rain will fall
Followed by sun by noon




We were taught to launder..to food budget and cook.To sew and were expected to marry and let men be the providers.I always yearned to learn..I did. I ived through the bra burning establishing of day care for children and carried the banner politically