I remember my favorite present.  I was about 7 and woke up one morning to find three new and shiny things next to my bed.  A hip little doll baby with caramel skin, freckles, lashes and blue eyeshadow.  She sported matching shorts and tunic in Fuchsia pink with jewel-tone Scottie dogs in turquoise, emerald and yellow.  A.A. Milne’s The House at Pooh Corner.  And a string of ceramic clown heads.

I loved the gift because it was unexpected.  My Dad had been on an Oktoberfest trip to Holland and I fully realized how nice and unusual it was that he would have taken the time to pick out the gifts.  Not that he was mean, but present-buying was generally a Mum thing.  I loved the doll…and confess I still have her.  Her auburn hair is faded.  The clothes are ragged and sun-bleached.  The House at Pooh Corner rapidly became a favorite.  The clowns were a little ugly and scary but their association with the first two gifts protected them.

My next most favorite present was probably a year later.  Great Uncle James took me into a toy shop in Wilmslow.  He bought me a watch!  A black-strapped Timex watch with a round face.  I was elevated by this extraordinary status symbol.  That was more than enough but I also got The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, which was read and re-read.  And then, to push the experience over the top, a magnetic ladybird (yes, ladybug to you) that was perhaps a centimetre long, with a detachable magnet base.  Hours of fun awaited me.

We are all magpies, but children are particularly good at constructing their world around their personal possessions, which help differentiate them from the adults around them.  My things were very important.  I had particular schemes for arranging my ornaments and hated them being disturbed.  I had equal love for all the animal and doll toys and felt bereft if I was persuaded to give some away.

What did you keep?