It was a typical main street in a small town in the 1950s. There were two drug stores, a hardware store, a sports shop, a record store, a jewelry shop, a men’s shop, a ladies shop, a shoe store, a small department store and a five and dime on Washington Street in Lewisburg, WV. On that one street, there was every venue necessary for a 12 year old boy to go Christmas shopping.
I had waited until the afternoon of Christmas Eve to begin my spree. I had $10 saved up from my paper route and Mama Ida kicked in an extra five spot so I could buy a present for everyone on my list.
As I walked downtown, it was spitting snow. The lamp posts were adorned with Christmas lights and greenery and there was a Lionel train and a miniature town set up in the storefront of Caldwell’s Hardware.
It was a scene straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Every store I entered was decorated with Christmas ornaments and lights and Christmas music was in the air. The personnel at each store welcomed the young man who they recognized as a patron in need of last minute help. The ladies’ store manager recommended a fine handkerchief for Mama Ida and a navy blue scarf for my mom. At the dime store, Ralph Barr helped me select a doll for my sister, Johanna, a cap gun for my brother Pat and a toy football for my youngest brother, Charlie. At the drug store, the pharmacist came from behind the counter and suggested a bottle of hand soap for my Aunt Jodi and some cologne for Uncle Jim. I had about $3 remaining, just enough to buy a spiffy red tie for my Dad from Yarid’s Men’s Shop. My shopping list was complete.
The snow was coming down a little harder as I returned home. It was about a half-mile, but I had walked it often. I knew the name of most every resident on both sides of the street. It was like that in a small town.
Busy at the wrapping table, I assembled my gifts, the Christmas paper, ribbons and bows as best I could, but at the end of the day, it was clear which presents under the tree had been wrapped by a 12-year old boy.
That night, some carolers from church came by the house and we invited them in for a bit of Daddy’s homemade eggnog. They sang with much more enthusiasm after a couple cups. Daddy made pretty strong eggnog.
What a difference between Christmas shopping back then when compared to modern times with a “click” here and a “click” there and on to the check out line on a lap top.
That Christmas was among my fondest memories and I don’t even recall what I got. All I remember was that it was the first Christmas I personally picked out and wrapped a present for each member of my family and I was fully absorbed by the spirit of giving.
And after all, isn’t that what Christmas is really all about?