I remember one special Christmas when I was quite young but I'm afraid it is nothing noble or inspiring to hear about, but rather had to do with a ratty little mechanical dog which had been on the filthy streets of Philadelphia back in the late '40's.
I used to get to go into Philadelphia to see my father at his work, once a year, and then we'd go out to eat at one of the restaurants he liked and this was a big occasion for me, as a child. I'd get all dressed up in my Sunday best. He seemed larger than life on these occasions, and very important. I can see his long black overcoat to this day. His office building was the old one, downtown, which later was replaced by a building so architecturally important my husband actually was sent there as an engineer from South Carolina in the late 60's to study it, (small world) but this was the old one in the old neighborhood and it seemed gigantic and sparkly to me. The mind of a child.
And it seemed the waiters all knew him (and of course I am sure they did, since it was not that far away, and he had to eat) and they were properly deferential, sweetly for my benefit, and so to a child it took on a certain magic, I guess.
So one day we were walking to the restaurant and a man was selling motley little mechanical toys on the sidewalk, and had assembled quite a crowd around him. Cheap things but spoiled as I was I really wanted one. I may in fact have outdone myself in expressing a desire for one. My father was not amused, especially when I would not take no for an answer, they were cheap and I could not understand why he would not buy everything I wanted on the spot. But he wouldn't.
As I recall he had lots of good reasons why not, it wasn't my birthday or any celebration, it was cheap, it would probably break the minute we bought it, why would anybody want such a thing anyway, we really can't buy every single thing we see, and so forth. I see this happening every day at the supermarket, today, he was nice about it but firm and of course I was an only child, and rotten so I sulked and he said maybe after lunch we'll see if the man is still out there, and have a closer look and think about it then, but we have reservations now, the crowd is too big, and we can't be late, so we went on in, and of course when we emerged the man was gone.
So that was the end of that. So I thought.
But later that Christmas, in opening presents, I opened a small box, and there was the very toy, a little mechanical white and brown dog which walked and sat up and sort of barked/ squeaked. I don't know how my father did it, he did not do it when I was there and the man had gone, perhaps the man was a staple on the street, and appeared later on, I don't know. My father never would say.
But there it was, and I have never forgotten it and I have done it in memory ever since. For my children, friends, and now my grandson, too. Something is seen and admired and, if not purchased, for whatever reason, turns up as a huge surprise on a later special occasion (I've checked with my grandson's parents of course). We have had some interesting adventures doing these clandestine purchases, most recently in Charlotte NC at some special kind of toy store, it took both parents to lure him off away from the...item, whatever it was...which was hurriedly conveyed to the cashier, but suddenly my grandson was spotted running back excitedly to show his mother this thing he had discovered.....and when the cashier heard my hissed "here he COMES!" she literally threw herself on the floor because she was holding IT in her hand, and instantly disappeared from sight behind the counter in front of the astonished other customers.
hahaha
THAT one I'll never forget, either.
Ho ho ho!
