How much to give to kids at Christmas

Last week the Nine Network's 'Today' show comperes Lisa Wilkinson and Richard Wilkins discussed what I think has become a big problem for parents at Christmas time: how much and what to put in the stocking or place under the Christmas tree for their kids. It was a vigorous discussion. When once (many eons ago) a toy popgun for a boy and a rag doll for a girl was more than enough, it has snowballed today to...well, who knows how far some parents with more money than sense will go. Whatever the limits now, my observation is that kids generally have presents piled on them at Christmas. And it's not just the parents, and not just Christmas.

The extended family goes wild when the first grandchild arrives on the scene. And when that grandchild is has the bluest eyes and the cutest face, there seem no limits. And who will resist; who will not succumb? Yes, parents, grandparents, aunties, uncles, and friends all contribute to that mountain of toys on birthdays, at Christmas and on other special occasions. Even religious events are celebrated with presents. The family smiles teary-eyed as the gift paper is ripped away by the blond blue-eyed beneficiary oblivious to the surrounding emotion - as is entirely normal. But it is all too much - not good for the kids and not good for the parents. I speak from experience, if the reader has not guessed. It was clear that Lisa and Richard had concerns about the harm to the child and to the parental purse. But what to do about it? Buy less was their conclusion. But how?

As in so much else, my mother and father set an unbeatable standard. And although I believe the final decision was my mother's, it was a team effort. There were six of us who received presents in the same categories all according to a tight household budget. We were not a well-to-do family, but a whole lot better off than many others. The family of my best mate, Pete, two doors up the road was clearly not as well off. Nevertheless, my mother many years later said that it always took a couple of months before the purse strings could be loosened. 'We had to count every single penny,' she said, 'but the joy was worth it.' These were their categories:

1. A main present. This was a reflection of the prevailing interests or needs of the child at the time. My biggest and best present was my 24 inch Malvern Star 'two-wheeler' which I received Christmas 1956 when I was ten-years-old. I could not believe my eyes. Most years did not reach this extravagance.

2. An item or two of clothing. I realised much later that the item or items were well targeted in terms of need and fashion - summer and beach fashion, of course. When I look at some of my father's slides from those years ago I see examples of the new clothes worn proudly, particularly by my sisters.

3. A book or two. My mother was a great reader. We always got a book. Bookshops were well supported by my mother. Enid Blyton featured, of course. There were always the annuals. These were my favourite. My brother got the Lion Annual and I got the Tiger Annual. At some time during the afternoon on Christmas day when all the excitement had dissipated I would sneak away to a quiet spot to read.

4. One or more sundry items (depending on the cost). This was something that was desired but did not qualify as a main present, e.g. a 45 rpm or LP of one of the popular singers or groups. I remember Elvis's Teddy Bear, Paul Anka's Diana, a Bill Haley and the Comets LP with all their top hits. I still have Col Joye's LP of his biggest hits. There were toys, model kits, and things for the girls that I cannot remember, though they were greeted with long sighs of pleasure.

5. A lolly stocking. This is still available today but nothing like it used to be. In this we would find our favourite chocolate snack bars.

I think the balance of this scheme was just right: generous and special, but not extravagant. We were certainly happy with what we got. It contributed to make Christmas day the highpoint and happiest day of the year for the family.

Comment: gerard@gerardcharleswilson.com