Neither of the two greatest presents that I received in my formative years (6-16) were “the latest thing” as seen on television or in magazines. Neither were trendy with me and all the other kids on the street having the same thing. Neither were lost to a toy clearance effort to reduce inventory in my room or forsaken as a sales object in a garage sale.

One of the two was stolen…twice. I recovered it the first time from Rummel Creek, thanks to a tip from one of the neighborhood friends (back in the old days when kids played at creeks and bayous, learning the thrill of adventures), but it was never seen again after the second theft. It was a black, Schwinn bicycle in “traditional” format…no banana seat, no raised handlebars, no handbrakes. It was my first bike, and the one that allowed hours of cycling, exploring, thinking, discovering…freedom of thoughts and of movement.

The other gift changed the way I look at life, literally. It now sits on a display case with similar objects: my first camera: Kodak Brownie Fiesta. If I try real hard, I can almost smell the unique aroma of a AG-1B flashbulb after it served its purpose in lighting an image. My first photograph was of the Christmas tree under which the camera was found, and the second image was of the next-door neighbor’s front door that was decorated with shiny paper for Christmas. My first roll of film, and most thereafter, produced black-and-white images; I am partial to such work still today. I began seeing life through a lens at the age of 6; it changed me and it changed how I share with the world.

I try to remember those gifts when I buy for family and grandkids. Not that I will be able to provide something with as much significance as those two gifts, but maybe. My odds are certainly better than they would be if I gave gift cards or cash. I might miss the specialness target completely, but I’ll continue to take aim at giving to others something as special as what my parents gave to me…in more ways than just gift giving.