The tree sparkled in the bay window of our modest home on Dakota Avenue in Wessington Springs. After being decorated shortly after Thanksgiving, the pine needles were beginning to dry and fall to the floor below.
The tree's physical condition was of little concern by Christmas Eve... it was what was under the tree that was of the greatest interest. The bubble lights and tinsel greeted us with a beautiful scene from the house upon arriving from Christmas Eve services at the church.
ItwasthefinalChristmas of the 1950s and there had been many changes to the American lifestyle during the decade. There were also many more unpredictable changes in the future years.
I was twelve years old in 1959, kind'a scrawny following a years-long bout with rheumatic fever. But this Christmas was different from previous years. I was healthy, growing and excited for the holiday.
As the gifts were passed around, years of Christmas gift experience went to work. After all, the biggest packages are the best. Or are they?
More than sixty years later, the contents of the bigger package are forgotten. Perhaps they concealed a sweater or new blue jeans. Interest eventually turned to the little package that had previously received very little attention. Hmmmmm.
My parents smiled as the gift wrap began to open. A red six-transistor radio, the size of a deck of cards, emerged into the dim light. It was something I didn't even know existed.
That little radio was the most powerful gift I ever received. The radio introduced the boy to popular music. I could tune in to Oklahoma City's KOMA AM radio station and listen to Elvis Presley, Marty Robbins, the Everly Brothers, Connie Francis.... even the Chipmunks!
Around ten months after Christmas, the radio was smuggled into Miss Ellen Knox's very strict eighth grade classroom. With the cord wending up my shirt sleeve, the earplug was stuck in my ear. The radio was tuned to game seven of the 1960 World Series. Pittsburgh's Bill Mazeroski hit a walkoff home run in the bottom of the ninth inning to defeat my beloved New York Yankees. I wonder if I fooled that crafty old lady, or if she knew what was happening all the time.
After showing a deep interest in the music on my tiny radio, my mother bought my first guitar. I learned to play it and eventually performed with bands over a large portion of the Midwest. Yes, even multiple times in KOMA radio's Oklahoma City.
I've long-since abandoned my affiliation with the damn Yankees, but still attribute the six transistors to my life-long interest in sports and music.
Whether it is a small gift, a kind act or a pleasant smile, I definitely believe 'good things come in small packages'.
Keep warm, thank God and enjoy the little things in your life. Merry Christmas.