Santa Claus in the BonTon department store lifted me onto his knee. I told him about the electric train at the top of my list. He assured me that he’d tell the elves to pack an electric train in the sleigh. He lowered me to the floor as a pet monkey gave me a comic book and a candy cane.
Christmas morning I opened a box heavy enough to be my train. Disappointment. The box contained a wind-up train, two cars, and ten pieces of track. When it was fully wound it made two laps around the track. Rewinding almost always caused the engine to get off the track.
Another gift was a WW2 bomber. It was made of wood with press board wings. When I banked the bomber on a pretend mission, the wings fell out of the slats.
The last gift was a toy military tank. When fully wound, an armed soldier popped out of the turret. None of the gifts met my electric train desires and I soon lost any desire to visit Santa at the BonTon at Christmas time. Adults told me it was due to the war.
About 30 years later a teenager offered to sell his electric train set for ten dollars. I bought it and took it home for our son. I set it up in the living room. I’m sure you’ll agree that I had to make sure it was in tip top shape before I turned it over to our son.
Material things are so important to a boy on Santa’s knee. When they become top priority for a 40-year-old man, we have a problem.
My 30 years working for hospice sent lots of material things to the bottom of my bucket list. Some never made the list. Beautiful people facing life-threatening illness often rearranged their priorities. They have taught me to do the same every day of the year — not just at Christmas time.