My favorite things 52

Many years ago my sister bought a present for Dad -- a Christmas bear.  Turn him on, and he taps his toe, strums his guitar and plays Jingle Bells, in a syncopated rock-n-roll rhythm.  Clearly this was the perfect present for the man who had everything.

I don't recall whether there was negotiation, after our parents died, over who got the Christmas bear.  Maybe I pulled rank as the oldest survivor, or maybe nobody else wanted it (although how could that be possible??).  But the bear came home with me, and has been an integral part of our holiday celebrations ever since.  He needed a new battery a couple of years ago, but is otherwise good as new.

Most of the time he takes his position on the bar in the dining room, ready to perform for the assembled guests.

When we first met Isaac, age 3, at a Christmas dinner, the bear was on hand to make him feel welcome.  Isaac needed to be held up to reach the button, but now, of course, he's tall enough to do so without help.  This year it's new baby Vivian who will have to be held up to meet the bear. 

When we do Christmas away from home the bear comes along, so as you read this, our whole family will be listening to Jingle Bells at the beach in South Carolina. 

All of us wish all of you a very good Christmas!