Well, here we are, a scant 11 days before Christmas Eve. The hustle and bustle are reaching a fever pitch in many households as we all strive to do as much (and more) that we can in order to make Christmas special.

The anticipation of Christmas is a powerful drug. When we are children, we have the magical toy that we can't imagine life without and hope beyond hope that our parents or Santa are able to come through with the goods. The brightly wrapped presents under the tree are riddles to be solved by curious hands and ears. I recall many times that my siblings and myself were cautioned about shaking, lifting and feeling the wrapped presents. As if we were the Magnificent Kreskin and would be able to somehow ascertain the contents of the package by touch alone.

But, when you are a child, that gnawing anticipation will make you do some pretty strange things, and it will all make perfect sense -- to you.

As we grow and become parents ourselves, the roles are reversed and we must tap into our inner psychic (or actually listen to our children) and try to figure out what would make the perfect gift and still allow us to make the house payment. It's a tricky balance sometimes, but we hopefully pull it off.

Christmas truly is a time for children. If you stop to consider the memorable December 24 and 25ths in your life, you may conjure up an image of a toy you received, but I'm betting that as you have aged, the memories that bubble to the top revolve more around loved ones that you were able to spend time with.

When I recall Christmas past, I remember my mother working at the kitchen table after supper, writing out Christmas cards that were sent to friends and relatives. These were all done by hand, and many included a personal letter, updating the recipient on what had transpired over the past year. After consulting her list, kept in a ledger book, she would make sure that all the correct people were taken care of and make the walk downtown to the post office and place the cards in the mail.

The cards we received were displayed in the house and made Christmas better for my parents, who go to "catch up" with old friends and, in some small way, get closer at this special time of the year.

Alas, the Christmas card tradition has changed greatly since I was I child. Receiving a Christmas card with a handwritten letter is as rare as receiving a handwritten letter. The advent of the personal computer and the popularity of email have forever changed this quaint and gentle tradition.

Today, if you receive a Christmas card, it is usually still signed, but you more than likely will receive either a photo greeting card or a form letter that chronicles the past year for the sender and their family. It's as close as we get today. Another case of where technology has helped us do more, but has depersonalized the entire process.

My parents have both passed away, and after dealing with the estate, we gave our family home to a neighbor who had been very kind and helpful to our parents on the condition that he tear the structure down, which he did. Since the people and the building at 312 3rd Street in Manning only exsisted in our memories, we made my address in Le Mars the forwarding address for my late parents.

Over five years later, I still get an occasional piece of mail for my late parents. At Christmas, I have received a Christmas card from a person in California each year. The card has been a rather painful reminder of the loss of my parents, so for the first few years I simply threw them away without even opening them.

This year, it arrived again. I have decided that it has been very rude and selfish of me not to inform these folks that my parents are no longer alive. I will write them and tell them this year, and use this opportunity to learn some more about my mother, who was the master correspondent of our family.

I hope it will be a cool present to myself.

As always, I welcome your comments. You can reach me by email at tstangl@lemarscomm.net, telephone 712-546-7031, x40 or toll free 1-800-728-0066 x40.

Thanks for reading, I'll keep in touch. Feel free to do the same.