It was my sixth grade year and the orange, yellow, and red leaves had settled to the ground. The anticipation of turkey and tinsel was dialing up. “Do you have your Christmas list?” I loved that question. It led to many hours of day-dreaming and fantasying about what could be.
After searching diligently through the catalogues and circling items of interest I landed on one object on which I began to obsess. A camera. Specifically, a Canon AE-1. The dials, the buttons, and the promise of birthing new images over and over again was almost too much to carry. It was truly a gift that could keep on giving. I could envision myself stooping with strap around my neck focused solely on the perfect framing of a luna moth. I could feel the weight of the camera and the lens balanced in my hands.
I was a latchkey kid. After I stepped off of bus #41 after school and hiked down our long gravel driveway I was alone at home for several hours every day. My parent’s bedroom was upstairs and contained a large walk-in closet with parallel his and her clothes hung on either side. Above were shelves. I knew that this was a perfect hiding place for presents waiting to be wrapped.
Please understand, I was a middle child rule-keeper. I rarely got into trouble. Never before had I been tempted to peek into the secrets of Christmas morning. Until one fateful afternoon.
I happened to be in my parent’s closet, you know . . . just hanging around, when I saw the plastic bag on the shelf. If the opening hadn’t been toward by eyesight as I was standing on a shoe bin maybe the temptation would not have been so strong. But it was. And there it was. In a yellow Kodak box. My heart sank. This was not the professional camera I was pining for. It was a point and shoot with an internal rectangular flash cube that screamed “age 4 plus.” It was called a camera outfit. Outfit? Of course, I had seen these cameras before. Michael Landon, from the television version of Little House on the Prairie promoted it regularly in commercials.
I practically crumbled to the floor in disappointment. I was disappointed in the kind of camera. I was disappointed in my parents. I was disappointed in myself for succumbing to the fever. I was disappointed in Jesus for not getting me something better on His birthday.
I sat cross-legged in my fake happiness as it was brother’s turn to open a present. He got a Canon AE-1.