…and some of the ways we’d all look for the best toys to put on our list.
In the 1960s and 1970s, a Christmas list was something you worked on, not something you clicked. It started while lying on the floor during Saturday morning cartoons, where commercials taught you what to want. If you missed one, you waited a week to see it again. Then came the Sears Christmas Wish Book, thick and magical, its pages circled, folded, and smudged as kids marked far more dreams than they would ever receive.
The list itself was handwritten, usually on lined paper or the back of a school worksheet. Spelling was optional. Descriptions filled in the gaps. Some kids wrote letters to Santa, making promises about clean rooms and better behavior starting in January.
Then you’d go out looking. Mom would take you to Hanes, Arthurs, Woolworths, Music Staff, Playfair (Tiny Tots), Dicks Hobbyland, Sears and the Leader Store. Then I would shop for her at Jeanettes, Lancasters, Jane Smiths to name a few I grew up in Westfield. How about you? Bet you can remember a few.
Once the list was done, it was handed to a parent, taped to the refrigerator, or mailed with a real stamp. Then came the waiting. No tracking. No hints. No idea what would actually be under the tree. Christmas morning brought fewer gifts, but each one mattered. One big present could define the entire holiday. Clothes were guaranteed, batteries were never included, and assembly was required.
What made it special was the mystery. The list was slow, thoughtful, and full of hope. And when the wrapping paper came off, the surprise was real.
Some Ads and a Few Stores That are Just a Memory……
