The One Item Christmas List

When Alex was two and a half, she wanted "big blocks" for Christmas. Nothing but "big blocks."  It didn't matter who asked, the answer was always the same.  When she climbed up on Santa's lap, a little nervous and not at all sure she wanted to be sitting there, she stared down at her hands and shyly whispered two words, "big blocks." And then she quickly jumped down and ran to my arms, without even a thought about getting the candy cane from the outstretched hand of the elf.

It was nice to have a list of just one item to fill for my little girl.  It was going to make Christmas shopping easy and leave a little girl very happy.  Santa was not going to disappoint at our house.

Except that I wasn't exactly sure what "big blocks" were.  Logic told me that they were probably just like what they sounded, but when I saw some big blocks at her daycare center and pointed them out to her, she had one word, "NO!" When I showed her some other blocks at the daycare, she had that same one word, "No." And when we looked through the Sears Christmas catalog for "big blocks," it was "No," and "No," and "No." 

Alex was pretty verbal for a two year old, once telling me, "I am two and a half, but you can't cut me in half."  Yet we were having some trouble with our descriptive words with this one. I tried to get her to explain to me what "big blocks" looked like, but she was unconcerned, uninterested, and a little dismissive.

"Santa will know!" End of discussion.

It was already the second week of December.  I was getting a little nervous and started watched morning cartoons instead of CNN, hoping for a commercial about "big blocks."  But they apparently weren't the big ticket item that season, because there was nary a mention. I walked the toy aisles of the local Venture store after work searching for something that looked like "big blocks" that we hadn't seen in the catalogs or at the daycare. Nothing. I went to the small toy store near our house that we sometimes walked to and that was filled with tin wind up toys that she liked.  Nothing.

I started hoping that her list might change, sort of like her recent preference for plums over bananas. But it stayed the same.  And unlike our hearts at Christmas, it never grew.  There was only one thing that my little girl wanted for the first Christmas that she might actually remember, and I didn't know what it was. 

I talked to Alex's nanny and Miss Amy at the daycare to see if they had any idea what "big blocks" might be. They didn't.  I told Alex that Santa might not be able to make any "big blocks" this year and that sometimes he can't bring the things you want.  She told me, "He will."

And finally, I bought some toys that I knew Alex would like, but that weren't on her list of one. There were all kind of big blocks, including the ones that look like bricks that I remembered wanting as a child. But the real "big blocks" weren't going to be under the tree. 

A few days before Christmas, I took Alex with me to one of the local stores to pick up some tape and wrapping paper.  It had a small toy department in the basement, next to the Christmas displays, and we wandered over before heading for the checkout.  

Alex climbed on a rocking horse, walked through a Little Tykes play house, and then, in the middle of the second of two short aisles, stopped. There on the top shelf, too high for her to reach, was a big plastic bag filled with multicolored, over-sized, generic, Lego-looking, "big blocks."  The look on her face was like she had found her way home.  

She kind of had.  Home to the magical world of Christmas and a Santa who always knows.

      

                          A Merry and Magical Christmas to all.


P.S.  Ellen and I have a list this year.  It only has one item:  1) an occasional comment on our blog, please