Basketball goals, Edmund Gwenn and the best gift I could have gotten

I can't explain why a Jewish kid who never saw snow during childhood is such a sucker for "Miracle on 34th Street." Since the first time I saw it, the story of the department store Santa who may be the "real deal" has been my favorite holiday film. (I even liked the remake with Richard Attenborough in the Edmund Gwenn role. The scene where he signs for the deaf girl still puts a lump in my throat.)


I loved the film so much that I married the grown-up version of the cynical little girl who doesn't believe in Santa, but then is shown he can do miraculous things. (I guess when we get that beachfront home in Hawaii, with no mortgage, Sarah will leave cookies and milk out on Christmas Eve.) So perhaps I was looking for a little of that holiday magic when Elijah requested that Santa bring him numerous (the number seemed to change every day) basketball goals.


Lo and behold, we had our own little miracle on our street. While at work on Christmas Eve, Sarah was discussing with co-workers the basketball goal dilemma we were facing the next morning. One of them mentioned that the paper had done a photo essay on various basketball goals in the area, and in fact the pictures were somewhere in the paper's system. That night Sarah came home with a stack of photos of all sorts of goals. The goals were new, old, broken and pristine. Perfect for our little aficionado.


Needless to say the pictures were the ultimate gift. For Hanukah and Christmas Elijah got all sorts of toys, DVDs and books, but nothing on Christmas morning was more important or caused a wider smile. As soon as he saw the pictures he asked me to staple them together so they could become a "book." Then he spent the entire day carrying it around with him, ignoring almost all of the other gifts he received (the exception being anything having to do with Wall-E). He was ecstatic, describing each and every goal, whether there was writing on the backboard or if the net was missing. In fact, the basketball goal "book" received the ultimate seal of approval; Elijah wouldn't let go of it even when he fell asleep.





As for Sarah and I, we had decided not to exchange gifts this year so while I got nothing tangible each night I lit the menorah, nor anything under the tree, I did get an incredible gift the day after Christmas. When Elijah came down the stairs that morning he saw all of his gifts piled high on a table in our entry. A smile that could only be described as "from ear to ear" graced his face as he viewed his bounty. But the best was yet to come. As he stepped off the final stair, Elijah walked over and wrapped his arms around me in as warm a hug one can imagine, and told me, "I love you so much, Daddy." Playing Pebble Beach with a new set of Pings couldn't hold a candle to that.