Do not ask me what I received at Christmas last year because I can not remember. It's also nothing when I try what I was offered the year before. And do not believe what was under the tree, three years ago, has found a place in a drawer in my memory. Despite this poor performance in terms of my memories of Christmas presents, I remember very well what I received in 1982.
However, Christmas 1982 is certainly not the favorite of my parents. These are not the ones who had won the million that year. Not this year that the fridge was full of caviar and Veuve Cliquot. This is not the year that my mother ran out to the shops to fill the trunk of the car gifts.
The 1982 edition should not have to make history by those who gave me life. It was a crisis year. Astronomical interest rate. Discount coupons at the grocery store. From rabbit ears on TV. Kraft cheese sandwiches in the lunch box. Brown corduroy overalls bought on sale at the Bon Marché. Still
that with my eyes a little girl of six and a half years, I do not see any difficulties faced by my parents. I was too busy with my catalogs for distribution to consumers and to encircle the Sears Christmas red Bic pen that I wished that Santa left under the tree.
I had wanted to have new Barbie and especially the one with the red satin dress. I found that the small school Fisher Price looked very funny. There was also a small battery operated sewing machine with which I imagined myself making beautiful clothes. I dying to have the new electronic Battleships seemed to work so much better than what I already had. The worse would have been overjoyed to have the game Simon (you know, the thingy to four strokes of color where it was necessary to recreate a sequel?).
Suffice to say that Father Christmas was a lot of pressure on themselves to make the little girl I was very happy. What I could write letters. What I was able to make promises that I would be the wiser children if they brought me everything that is found on my list ...
Although I hope to wake in the morning on 25 with a ton of gifts to unpack, it was not the case. However, I made my bed every morning in December. I though the correct mailing address for my letters to the big beard. Despite my best efforts, there was only one small box under the Christmas tree destined for me. Only.
I removed the wrapping paper and I opened the gift to find a dozen blank tapes. I do not really understand. It was not on my list. What could I do with blank tapes, will you please tell me?
"On those tapes, there's music Genevieve. Well, here you have the tape of all the songs of Fan Fan Dede. On it you will find the songs of country Chanterelle. Here, I put all those Passe-Partout and on that one, there are those of Nathalie Simard. You can always listen to them whenever you want, "my mother explained to me before my sad.
For weeks before Christmas, when I was in bed, my mother would take out his tackle and copied the 33 laps on blank tapes. Vinyl records TV shows and singers that I liked that it had borrowed friends and the library. For days, she was prepared to put my gift of time and heart.
And I, for months, I went to bed at night listening to music on my little magnet too pleased with this gift so magical. So unexpected. So touching.
Even today, 28 before Christmas, I am reminded of this gift as the most beautiful. Because my mother had put all his time. His love. She would have given me the Sears catalog in full force that I would not have been happier.
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