What was the most #TreasuredGift from your childhood? Read which gift blogger Jennifer Perkins remembers most fondly.
My most #TreasuredGift, like most kids, was my bike. Not because it was a cool, red dirt bike, and not because it gave me the freedom to go wherever my two wheels would take me—it was because of the note Santa left me that Christmas. The year I got my Schwinn Predator was also the same year I learned that Santa could not only draw pictures, but sometimes his sleigh could not carry everything. As an adult, it is not the actual bike I remember as much, it’s the simple drawing I received instead.
During my childhood, we often had Christmas at my grandmother’s house. This meant my parents were smuggling gifts to East Texas throughout the fall without my sister and I finding out. There were always trash bags full of mystery items in the back of the car that for some reason, we never questioned. On Christmas morning, all of our gifts would magically be at grandma’s house, and we were none-the-wiser about how they actually got there. Now, I tell my children that Santa knows how to find them at grandma’s house, so apparently this trick still works. That reminds me, I need to get large, black trash bags…
Back to my treasured bicycle, or the drawing of said bicycle. One year in particular, I had my heart set on a new bike. When I came rushing out of the bedroom, rubbing the sleep from my eyes to behold my loot under grandma’s tree, it was immediately clear—there was no bike in sight. I opened my gifts and eventually came to a card that said, “To: Jennifer, From: Santa.” There was an amateurish drawing of my bike and an explanation that my bike was waiting for me at home. In my opinion, we couldn’t get back home soon enough. When my family pulled into our driveway a few days later, my parents had the inside scoop from Santa that my bike was in fact waiting in the garage attic.
As a child, I adored that bike. As an adult, I think I love the memory of the note from Santa even more. Sadly, the note and the bike are long gone, but I can still see the drawing in my head and I think of it every holiday season. In a funny twist of fate, my parents eventually bought a spare bike to keep at the house for when my sister and I had friends over. We named this funky, blue, 60’s Schwinn, “Kermit.” I remember many a hot summer day, riding my red dirt bike alongside a buddy who was on that blue bike. 30 years later, the red dirt bike from Santa has gone to the big thrift store in the sky, but I still have and ride Kermit to this very day.
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