Christmas wish list changes with time

Did you ever notice how Christmas wishes change over a lifetime?

When I was a kid, the annual Sears and Roebuck catalog had a live pony that always headed my Christmas wish list. Other worthy wishes, like wanting gifts for the kids going without presents, never made my self-centered list.

I had the innocence that only a child pre-1960s, surrounded by a loving family, can recall.

My teens brought two realizations: Someone actually paid for those gifts, and it really was better to give than receive.

My dad’s hospital stays started about then, and the first Christmas without him had the family coffers looking pretty bleak.

Christmas card “trees” adorned the walls, complete with garlands of popcorn. In our family of seven only my dad drove, which sure sounds weird by today’s standards, so I dragged the family Christmas tree for a mile along the snow-covered streets.

When money’s tight, get creative.

That year, my mother pulled one of her all-time pranks. She gave me two packages – one obviously socks, and another that I couldn’t guess. I was overjoyed to find it was a walkie-talkie.

I quickly asked her for the other one, and she said “what other one? There’s another one?”

I was muttering what was surely my first statement about women and electronics when I glumly unwrapped my socks only to find the other walkie-talkie inside. We laughed about that for years.

Late Christmas Day, relatives came, followed by neighbors who hardly ever talked to us except to say, “Get off my lawn,” bearing a treasure trove of gifts and food.

Kids may seem like they take it all in stride and quickly forget, but 40 years later I remember the kindness of those folks and try to duplicate it.

As an adult, my Christmas wishes have changed. If anything, the list is longer, but the focus has changed.

For my son in Iraq, and all the fighting men and women, I wish that the military would complete their body armor, including the Kevlar shoulder pieces now under development. Our kids ride into battle much like a soccer mom transporting her team.

This leaves soldiers’ shoulders exposed to curbside rifle fire, making shoulder protection necessary.

I also wish that our government would give these brave soldiers a definitive answer to the question, “How long will I be here.” Reindeer may actually fly before we get an answer to that one.

For anyone shooting at our kids, I wish them a temporary eye affliction. Nothing permanent.

My son’s fellow soldier, Crystal of Coeur d’Alene, has duties that may include driving a gasoline tanker truck. In Iraq!

For her, I wish a St. Christopher’s statue. Maybe the next time we male Spokane drivers want to joke about a female driver, we would do well to remember Crystal’s bravery.

For those families mourning the loss of a loved one in this armed conflict, I wish you inner peace and memories so wonderful and vivid that they somehow magically warm your heart.

For holiday travelers, I wish you speedy connections and clear runways. And if you run into my daughter headed home from college, give her a compass and point her toward Spokane.

For holiday revelers, I wish a designated driver.

For Spokane, my wish is that for every new upscale building project, there will be a corresponding modest-housing project to shelter the less fortunate.

For the ill, I wish a cure and, at the very least, comfort. For good measure, throw in access to cheaper prescription drugs, from Canada, Borneo, or wherever.

Are you listening politicians, or do you want a lump of coal?

For families, I wish warmth, smiles, safety and the realization they are blessed to have each other.

For those who have offended someone, I wish them the gift they may long for the most – forgiveness. For those who have been harmed, I wish the grace to forgive. And forget.

For those without work, I wish hope and new opportunities. For those left behind to work all the hours shorthanded, I wish better office working conditions, maybe starting with two-ply toilet paper.

For the sad and lonely, I wish them comfort and company, in the form of family or a long lost friend. Or a new friend. My wish list isn’t choosy, or even timely. Until the stroke of midnight on Christmas, it’s not too late to make that first step.

Lastly, I wish “peace on earth and good will to men.” That’s a gift that truly keeps on giving.