Don't Peek!

Don’t Peek!

Years ago I asked my fifth grade students to share a safe childhood secret. Did they ever peek inside their wrapped Christmas presents before Christmas? The responses ranged from an emphatic “NEVER!!” to hilarious stories of elaborate schemes to locate, unwrap, and rewrap carefully hidden gifts. Their oral tellings were fun, but their writing was even better. They decided to publish a class book to share with their parents. Some names were changed to protect the guilty.

Where was my story? Not in the book. I told them I had to be a good example and not divulge my own childhood secrets. I’m not teaching anymore, so here’s the truth: I did it once. Just once. I was six or seven, on the cusp between finding joy and wonder in any gift I received, and wanting the new and popular gifts my friends were sure to get for Christmas that year.

My grandma on my mom’s side was a cool grandma who worked for a well-to-do family with a daughter a few years older than I. Ellen had all the latest and greatest kid stuff, and the most stylish clothes I’d ever seen on an elementary school girl. Her influence meant Grandma’s Christmas gifts would be the best of all.

Just to be sure that Grandma came through for me, a few days before Christmas I broke in to one of the wrapped gifts she’d left in my mom’s closet at Thanksgiving time. When I pried off the tape and removed the paper, I couldn’t have been more disappointed. Staring at me through the cellophane window of the cardboard box cover was an 18-inch-tall brown fuzzy teddy bear with a yellow satin bow tied at its neck. A teddy bear? Really? Didn’t grandma know I was too old for stuffed animals? I cried for a good long time, then rewrapped this second-rate gift. In the process I accidentally poked a hole in the cellophane window, creating a jagged tear. The Scotch-tape I used to repair it was obvious, but I didn’t care. I shoved the rewrapped box back in the closet, hoping it would disappear. I didn’t want a teddy bear!

The excitement of opening presents with my siblings on Christmas Eve soon gave way to concern about how my grandma would feel if she knew how much I disliked one of her gifts. And it was about to be discovered. I opened the first two gifts from Grandma: a beautiful sweater and a cozy nightgown. Then it was time for me to open the box with the teddy bear. I tore the wrapping paper off and somehow willed my immature self to act as if it was the one gift I wanted more than any other.

I have to admit that thanking my grandma with hugs and kisses felt good, despite my guilty conscience. Being a naive kid, it didn’t occur to me that my grandmother and my parents knew perfectly well what I’d done. I eventually outgrew the beautiful sweater and the nightgown, but Brownie (as I soon named the bear), with his soft brown fur and beautiful satin bow became a close companion. When I climbed into bed at night or when I needed comforting, Brownie silently kept me company until years later, when his soft fur was worn smooth from age.

Jill 9/12/15