[Nerdspresso] Did You Get the World for Christmas?

Are you enjoying the holiday season? My family celebrated Christmas this week and it was great. We had a blast and benefitted greatly from the jolly fat man’s generosity. My kid has outgrown the need for a Christmas list and sitting on Santa’s lap, but still enjoys the magic of this holiday. We all do. This holiday inspires the child within all of us. 

It stirs that wild-eyed wonder when we stare at that beautifully lit tree, dreaming of the riches contained in all those brightly wrapped packages. We know the true reason for the season and are grateful for each and every blessing. We are truly blessed and share that joy with everyone. But it’s also fun to obsess a little over the gifts. 

Inevitably though, you never get everything on your list. But there’s a lesson there, too. You never get everything you want, but you should always be thankful for what you do receive. We are thankful for our good fortune. When it comes to gifts, I feel that in most cases, the wanting is often better than the getting. The wanting is a fantasy. The getting is a reality that often requires batteries or some assembly required. 

One Christmas gift stands out in my memory. It didn’t start out as monumental, but has grown to mean a lot to me over the years. One Christmas almost 50 years ago I asked Santa for a space helmet. I remember ripping the page out of the toy section from the JC Penny’s catalog and sticking it on the fridge with a magnet that looked like a huge banana. That year, a space helmet was the top prize on my list. 

I couldn’t wait for Christmas. When you’re a kid, it seems to take forever for it to get here. That time from Halloween to Christmas Eve feels like an eternity. By Thanksgiving, my family had our Christmas tree up in the living room.  I spent every night laying on the floor, mesmerized by the lights and staring at the presents under the tree. I did my best to wish that space helmet into existence. 

It was hard to go to bed on Christmas Eve, knowing what was waiting the next morning. When I finally drifted off, I dreamed of the adventures I would have wearing that space helmet. By break of dawn, I scampered to the living room in the darkness. Taking my position at the base of the tree, I took inventory of all the gifts that had been delivered overnight. Santa had come and he had been good to us. 

In the back behind presents for my dad that were surely a dress shirt or a new pair of slacks, I noticed a space helmet sized box with my name on it. I was giddy and settled in for a few unbearable hours of waiting. Finally, my family stirred from their restful slumber and joined me. Hopped up on Cocoa Puffs and Christmas cheer, I took my spot as everyone assembled around the tree to unwrap our gifts. 

I grabbed that one box and tore into it with unbridled glee. Inside was not a space helmet but a globe. A globe? Come on, Santa. What little kid wants a globe for Christmas? To be honest, I am now ashamed by my visible disappointment. Obviously, my parents were in cahoots with St. Nick to broaden my horizons. And I should note that this "educational" present wasn’t the only gift I received that Christmas. 

I was not deprived in any sense of the word, but there was no space helmet for me under that tree. I was bummed. There was no brightly colored plastic to encapsulate my skull as I traveled to planets far beyond my own. No fake headset mic micro to talk to my imaginary crew at mission control. No visor to tilt down over my face to protect me from cosmic rays. Just a globe that spun on its axis, revealing the countries of the world. 

Sure, I could explore the world from Afghanistan to Zambia but my trip to Alpha Centauri would have to wait. Sadly, I kinda resented that globe as a kid. It sat on my bookshelf for years, more decor than resource. It mocked my disappointment. Offering knowledge instead of intergalactic fun. 

But the globe endured. It survived my childhood and resided in my room until I went off to college. It came with me to my first apartment. Found a spot on our bookshelf in our newlywed home. Believe it or not, I still have that globe while all those awesome toys from Christmases past were dropped off at Goodwill decades ago. 

My son now proudly displays that globe in his room. He’s always been fascinated by states and countries and landmarks. That aged sphere with its faded borders and renamed countries is like a time capsule for my 21st century kid. He treasures this gift in a way that I never did. I realize now that it was meant for him all along. 

Looking back now, I’m a little regretful about how I reacted on that childhood Christmas morning. I had been a slave to the siren song of the JCPenney’s Christmas catalog. A clueless kid obsessed with a big hunk of plastic. Santa (and my parents) knew better. My mild childhood disappointment has now been replaced by son’s happiness. And maybe that's the real gift. 

But that space helmet would have been pretty cool, too.