Christmas Memories That Warm Our Hearts

The warm glow of Christmastime always takes me back to my childhood. Back in the fabulous fifties and swinging sixties, when I was just a wide-eyed boy with big dreams, Christmas was a season of pure magic. It all began when the Sears Christmas toy catalog arrived in the mail— oh, the anticipation! I swear, that catalog was like a sacred text for kids back then. My sister and I would practically launch into a wrestling match to see who could grab it first. She had quicker reflexes, but I had persistence (and maybe a strategic elbow or two). After dinner, when the dishes were barely put away, the battle over who’d flip through those glossy, toy-filled pages was epic. It was my version of Christmas morning come early.

Once I had that catalog in hand, the impossible task of creating my Christmas wish list began. With so many toys to choose from—the shiny train sets, rugged G.I. Joe figures, and elaborate dollhouses for my sister (not me, of course)—it felt like cutting items off the list would personally offend Santa himself. I’d stare at the pages, pencil in hand, thinking, "How do I prioritize my dreams?" Spoiler alert: most years I didn’t. I just begged harder.

By Thanksgiving, the negotiations kicked into high gear. My friends and I would huddle up, brainstorming ways to convince our parents to buy us the impossible. "I mean, Mom, how could you not get me a BB gun? It’s basically an investment in my future!" Of course, years later I watched the movie A Christmas Story and laughed at the line “You’ll shoot your eye out” was the standard rebuttal for kids after that movie came out. Boy I'm glad my mom didn't see that movie back then!

But Christmas was about more than just toys. It was a sensory experience like no other. The neighborhood transformed, and suddenly, life felt like it came wrapped in a warm, sparkling blanket of joy. The hum of Christmas carols on the radio filled the air, and television burst to life with holiday movies and cheerful kids' specials. Shiny tinsel shimmered on homes, and department store windows became enchanted landscapes I could stand and stare at for hours. It was drawn-out wonder, all lit in soft, colored hues of twinkling lights—the kind that always looked better if you squinted just a little. I swear, even the snowflakes back then had a certain magic to them. Or maybe that’s just my old-fashioned nostalgia kicking in!

Though life marched on, and I grew up, started a family, and raised two sons of my own, those fifties and sixties Christmases never faded from my heart. I did my best to recreate that kind of holiday magic for my boys. Maybe I didn’t cook up as many elaborate plots for my wife, but Christmas was still a time to slow down, gather close as a family, and fill the house with laughter—even if the toy trains eventually turned into gift cards.

Lately, I’ve been thinking: what new traditions can we start now that my sons are grown, with families of their own? It’s probably not practical to arm-wrestle over a catalog these days, but maybe there’s a chance to revisit that sense of wonder from way back when. And that’s why I want to encourage you, dear readers—take a moment to reflect on your favorite holiday memories. Let your inner child run wild! Share your stories with me, and let’s kick off a little Christmas nostalgia together... Maybe I’ll even borrow your ideas to inspire some new traditions for my family. (If one of those traditions could involve me finally winning the battle fair and square to open the first gift this year, well, who’s to say?)