So this is the first year Olivia has really been conscious of an old man called “Santa Claus.” She sat on his lap at the ward Christmas party. She saw him as we passed by in the mall. He even came to mommy’s wood carving club Christmas party. She seemed to grasp that Santa would bring her a gift on Christmas day. Through out the season we’ve asked her: “Olivia, what do you want Santa to bring you?” to which she would reply with eager anticipation: “A bell!”
Wyatt and I would look at each other confused. There were no high tech colorful commercials advertising the latest must-have bell for three year olds. There were no cartoons in which a bell was a central figure. None of her friends wanted bells. Where did this desire come from?
Still, as we asked the question again and again in the ensuing days and weeks, the answer was always the same. “I want Santa to bring me a bell.”
Next year, I am confident, Olivia will be entrenched in the marketing masterpiece of four year old consumerism. But this year, Olivia’s gift was simple and beautiful, bringing back perspective on what gifts we should all hope for at Christmas.
When she opened her bell on Christmas morning, she said in delirious excitement, “Now we can sing Jingle Bells!”
