First prize and a $25.00 Barnes & Noble Gift Certificate goes to Robin Ehrlichman Woods of Montclaire, New Jersey, for her reminder of what the true spirit of Christmas should be in her story, Grab Bag Grumbling.

Grab Bag Grumbling

The pressure is on for this Holiday Diva. I have been shopping since September, all my gifts wrapped and ready to go. As usual, two presents for my daughter are unaccounted for but will surely turn up around Groundhog Day. The cupboards are full of ingredients to bake my holiday pies and cookies, the cards addressed with envelopes waiting to be licked shut by my son or cat--whoever is more cooperative.

Now, I have to hit the stores again for those last minute grab bag gifts for colleagues and not so close relatives who have bamboozled me into becoming their “Secret Satan…” oops, Santa. A perfect gift is hard enough to find for ones you love, and now I am forced to search for something delightful for $20 or under for people I barely know.

I have yet to recover from The Grab Bag Incident in third grade. Mrs. Schulman had us pick names from a basket, and spend up to $2 on a thoughtful gift for the selected classmate. I had a wonderful time walking up and down the aisles of the 5- and 10-cent store, inspecting the barrettes, brooches, and stinky cheap perfume. I made the perfect choice for my classmate and best friend Ilene, and had my mom wrap the package as if it were a tiny treasure.

We were hopping up and down with excitement as we waited to reach in and rummage around the bottom of the cardboard box faux fireplace. I watched Ilene’s eyes shine as she saw the bracelets of Pop It Beads, which I knew to be her favorite fashion accessory. When my turn came, I found a crumpled brown paper bag with my name on it. I reached in and felt a cellophane bag. The bag contained a hairnet…a dark brown hairnet fit for a cafeteria worker or assembly line employee. Who hated me so much that they would choose the ugliest tacky gift on Earth?

My holiday heart hardened that day, and I avoided participating in random acts of potential holiday rudeness. I kept this vow until last year when my co-workers decided that a “Secret Santa” would be a hoot. Life is too short to keep my knickers in a twist over a traumatic episode from decades past. I agreed to participate with gusto, choosing Leila’s name. I had the perfect gift in mind for her, a beautiful sterling silver hair clip she had admired in a local jewelry shop.

Odds were heavily in my favor for a wonderful non-hairnet gift. We sipped our coffee while tasting delicious desserts at the end of our holiday party, as our gifts were handed out. Andria handed me a beautifully coordinated gift bag, bow, and card. There had to be something wonderful inside the attractive wrapping, and my spirits lifted as I opened the package. Inside a box sat a travel alarm clock tucked inside tissue paper. “Not bad, if a bit uninspired,” I mumbled to myself as I returned my booty to the box. I noticed something
written on the bottom, and read, “This free gift is for YOU, our loyal American Express Customer.” Not again! I screamed inside my head in fury. I will stand up and shove this clock right up Andria's… and then I saw Leila put my barrette in her shiny, long black hair and remembered what the holidays mean to me. Not the anticipation of reindeer droppings in naughty Andria’s Christmas stocking, but the look in someone’s eyes when they open up a box of magic.

Just wait and see what I bought for my Secret Santa recipient this year. Pat will love the beautiful, scented candle which looks and smells just like a real lemon chiffon pie. Sugarplums will dance in my head again as I strive to be a Good Elf. I can wait until April Fool’s Day for revenge.

Submitted by:

Robin Ehrlichman Woods