When I was little, maybe three or four, I was obsessed with trains. So for Christmas that year, my mom and dad bought me a train set.
It was a big one, apparently — my dad spent half the night putting it together. But they were really proud of it. My folks didn’t have much money, but they were happy to spend it on their boy.
I don’t remember any of this, but the story goes that when they brought me in the living room on Christmas morning, my eyes went wide with delight. There was the track laid out on the floor, and the fancy train engine — so fancy it had an actual whistle.
My dad turned on the train. It started to chug around the track. And then that whistle blew.
And I freaked out.
I cried and I howled and I ran out of the room. I wouldn’t go back in there as long as that evil train was around. I’ve always imagined how my dad’s shoulders must have sagged as he took the whole set apart. Their special gift had backfired. Christmas was ruined.
He got everything broken down and went around the corner to get the box to put it in.
And there I was, happily playing with the box.
When my folks were alive, one or both of them told that story every Christmas. And over the years, I’ve taken a lot of lessons from it.
The obvious one is, don’t blow a lot of money on a gift for a little kid. They’d just as soon play with the box.
Later on, what I gleaned from it was that old idea — it’s the thought that counts. The gift didn’t turn out like my folks thought it would. But they intended to do something special. And that’s what mattered. That’s a good lesson, too.
But now, the more I think about it, what I take away is this: The real gift is the story.
Most of us don’t still have the gifts we got as kids, whether it was at Christmas or otherwise. Stuff is mostly just stuff. We grow out of it or get tired of it or break it or lose it.
Stories, though — they can last forever.
I doubt I ever played with that train again. But that story has enriched our family for more than 50 years.
If you’re celebrating Christmas this week, the only piece of advice I have is not to stress too much over the gifts. Chances are, before long, they’ll be forgotten.
But hold onto the stories. They’ll never wear out. And they don’t even need a box.
Tommy Tomlinson’s On My Mind column runs Mondays on WFAE and WFAE.org. It represents his opinion, not the opinion of WFAE. You can respond to this column in the comments section below. You can also email Tommy at ttomlinson@wfae.org.
