This story took place in early December, 1949. The location was Central Davis Elementary School, three blocks from my beloved childhood home.
I was in the first grade. My life long best girlfriend, Helen, had recently moved to Davis from Riverside, California. She lived one block from my house and was in my class. It was exciting to have a best friend, a person with whom I could share my joys and sorrows. Little did I know that soon I would be experiencing both of those emotions almost simultaneously.
The holiday season was fast approaching. Our teacher, Mrs. Barbiere, told us we would all draw names and exchange gifts in class on the last day of school before vacation.
The Christmas season was then, and is to this day, my favorite time of the year. I love the cold weather. Cold, of course, is a relative term in California, compared to most of the rest of the country, since we see snow so seldom in Davis.
I didn’t see any snow in Davis from the time I was five years old until my husband and I moved back to Davis in 1969, from an 8-year hiatus to San Francisco. Three of the next four years in Davis, it snowed around the holidays. In the past 30 years, if memory serves me correctly, Davisites have only seen snow here twice.
Despite the lack of snow in my childhood, my enthusiasm in first grade escalated daily in December. We decorated the whole room, including a tree to put our little packages around.
. As a child, I loved making gifts at school for my family. I also loved wrapping those gifts in bright colored paper and putting on shiny ribbons. When I was allowed to add a little glitter to the packages, I was in heaven.
I personally wrapped the secret gift mom and I had selected for the classmate whose name I had drawn. The package wasn’t wrapped as fancy as I would have liked, but it was presentable. I was very relieved to have picked a girl. It was easy to shop for a girl, of course, because I knew what girls liked. When all of the packages had arrived in the classroom, we circled around the tree and looked them all over. One package stood out as very special to me. It was a small box with white paper and a beautiful gold bell, tied on with pretty ribbon on the top of the box. It seemed like everyone in the class favored that present, and everyone hoped it would be theirs.
The presents were labeled by number, so no one knew until Mrs. Barbiere passed them out who would be the lucky person to get the special present. I couldn’t imagine I would be lucky enough to be the winner, but I hoped and prayed.
Many names were called and the special package was still there. Dare I continue to hope? At last, it was my turn. The teacher called my name and handed me the prized package. Oh joy, oh rapture! My wish had come true. I carefully removed the little bell, ribbon and paper, then quickly opened the lid of the little box.
Inside that beautiful package was, of all things, a pair of pink underwear! It had been brought by one of the boys! To this day, I have never figured out why anyone’s mother would send underwear to school as a present for a classmate! I can assure you that the pink in the underwear could not compare to the red in my face. Most all of my classmates howled in laughter.
I was most grateful to have an understanding best friend to stand by me in my most embarrassing moment. Helen understood and didn’t laugh. She consoled me all the way home.
I had wanted that package so much. I had often heard, “Don’t pray for what you don’t need!” Now I understood why. When I received that gift it reaffirmed another thing I had always been taught. It is better to give than to receive.
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| Nola, Thomas & our neighbor, Kari Wilson (November 1972) |
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| Dawn & Kari Wilson, William and Nola (November 1973) |
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