REFLECTIVE MOMENTS

Old Christmas catalogues contained holiday magic

In earlier days, the selection of Christmas gifts depended greatly on what was offered in the pages of the Simpsons-Sears and Eaton’s catalogues.

The arrival of those books of treasures was a highlight in every rural home where hours and hours were spent leafing through the pages, making notes for Santa and the parents and grandparents, sisters and brothers.

And for weeks before Christmas, mysterious packages came to homes, were opened in secret corners and merchandise hidden away, or horrors, returned to the supplier for a larger or smaller size, even substitution of items that didn’t quite live up to the descriptions in the catalogues.

Then Eatons discontinued catalogue publications for all seasons and special occasions, and soon Sears followed suit, and rural shoppers had to visit the cities and larger towns to shop in person, poking around the shelves to find the perfect gifts.

In some ways Amazon and other online shopping opportunities have taken the place of those giant retail shopping books and some other outlets are periodically sending out their own versions of catalogue shopping experiences.

But that same excitement does not exist the way it did back in the good old days of my childhood and even those days when we in our household were much younger. We would sit at the kitchen table browsing and figuring out the best possible purchases — if we had the disposable income or weren’t dedicated to shopping as locally as much as possible.

The leather coat I bought from the Sears Wish Book lasted for 10-plus years and was only sidelined because it shrunk while stored in the closet for the summer.

So now I spend time looking through the flyers and mini books that come into the house, wondering if they contain that special gift that would be suitable for someone on our list of recipients.

Would the nephews enjoy a fish mug that changes colour with hot or cold beverages? Or how about the garden sculpture of a boy who appears to be peeing on a tree stump? No wait, there’s the fold-up walking stick with a built in LED light for reading maps or street signs in the dark.

I’m sure the nieces would enjoy a set of measuring spoons shaped like chicken or cat heads; a pair of light-up shoe laces in blue or red or buy two pair and mix ’n’ match; or maybe an egg maker as seen on television, suitable for cooking any kind of egg. For Moose Jaw Express

Sadly, I was never able to purchase, or receive, the one item that glittered blindingly on the pages of the Eaton’s catalogue. In my childish enthusiasm, and not knowing much then about decimal points and their appropriate placement, I found the perfect gift for my Mom — a beautiful necklace with sparkly stones, for the meagre sum of $2.99.

When I showed my Dad, he grinned and shook his head, explaining he couldn’t afford it and if he did, Mom would be afraid to wear it.

The price was actually $299.00, a fortune in those days and an unheard-of amount to be spent on one single gift. It was indeed the thought that counted and while I can’t remember what she received from me that year, I’m sure she was satisfied with whatever she unwrapped.

But I do miss those catalogues, especially now that I know where to place the decimal.

Joyce Walter can be reached at ronjoy@sasktel.net