Christmas presents - too much?

As I was wrapping presents for my daughters' stockings last night, and trying not to waste any wrapping paper (because my mother taught me that), I wondered why I was bothering - I bought that paper to wrap those presents, so if there's none left over, that's ok. Isn't it? On the other hand, if I do manage to use it frugally and have some left over, I won't have to buy so much next time. I even made sure to buy at least one design that isn't Christmassy so it will do for birthdays too.

There is a trend now to return to the spirit of "Make Do and Mend" that characterised wartime frugality, but even this is a modern invention. There was surely a time, not very long ago, when make do and mend was the only way of carrying on for many many people. It was a way of life, not something you could choose. And this made me wonder about our modern obsessions with more, and where the line got blurred somehow between enjoying the plenty that now surrounds us, being generous towards our children, and just being downright greedy and profligate. When did we morph into the throwaway society that is so disgusting when one considers the deprivation many people still experience the world over? How did we breed the child so beautifully caricatured as Dudley Dursley in the Harry Potter books? 

A little while ago I listened to a Radio 4 programme about Ian Fleming, and naturally much of the discussion was about James Bond. I was struck by how Bond’s character was described, and how it has come to be misinterpreted to some extent by modern generations in the simplistic judgement of him as someone who likes fast cars and faster women. In the radio programme he was described as a ‘bon viveur’, and as such quite typical of that generation who had lived through the Second World War, experiencing rationing, hunger, fear and the chaos of warfare. In that context, his love of good food and wine (more evident in the books than the films), as well as cars and women, can be more readily understood – this is a man who has lived without these things, and as such can appreciate them as the luxuries they are. He has also seen death, and wants to enjoy life while he has it. Most of us don’t live like that in modern Britain. The majority of us have plenty of food, new clothes when we grow out of the old ones, and clean water on tap, not to mention "all mod cons", gadgets galore, and a cupboard stuffed to bursting with shiny plastic toys for the children. We no longer think of these things as luxuries, but as essentials.

Here's an extract from "Little House in the Big Woods" by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Laura in the story is perhaps 4 or 5 years old, the other children are her cousins and are a little older. The book was written about the family's life in the late 19th century.

In the morning they all woke up almost at the same moment. They looked at their stockings, and something was in them. Santa Claus had been there. Alice and Ella and Laura in their red flannel nightgowns and Peter in his red flannel nightshirt, all ran shouting to see what he had brought. In each stocking there was a pair of bright red mittens and there was a long flat stick of red-and-white-striped, pepper-mint candy, all beautifully notched along each side. 

They were all so happy they could hardly speak at first. They just looked with shining eyes at those lovely Christmas presents. But Laura was happiest of all. Laura had a rag doll.

Before this, Laura used a corn cob wrapped in a piece of cloth as a doll, while her older sister had the only real doll in the house. It's the bit about the shining eyes that really gets me - how wonderful to see such unadulterated joy and delight in a gift, however small it might seem to us. I hope that, although my children's stockings have a little more than just a pair of gloves and a candy cane, they will still appreciate what they are given.