Every Christmas as an adult I am reminded of a
favorite gift I received as a young boy. My gift request was an Erector Set, a
toy
construction system consisting of various metal beams with hole for
assembly using nuts and bolts. I wanted the premium version with its myriad of
pulleys, gears and wheels, and a small electric motor.
The gift had been wrapped for several days, sitting
under the Christmas tree. Every time I passed by, it felt like it was calling
my name. When no one was watching I would shake the gift. I thought it felt
heavy enough to be the metal construction set. I was certain I could hear the
jiggle of nuts and bolts. I was convinced I was going to receive the Erector
Set.
I begged my parents to let me open the gift early.
The answer was always NO! That was the only gift I was receiving that year. If
opened early, there would be nothing to open on Christmas morning.
Every Christmas Eve we would go to my grandparents’
house for the ‘Festa dei sette pesci’ … the Italian Feast of the Seven Fishes,
a traditional fasting meal where meats were not served. My parents said I could
open the gift when we returned from my grandparents. I should have stopped
there. I didn’t.
I was willing to sacrifice the cod, clams, mussels
and calamari. Forget the scallops, fried smelts, and pasta with seafood. I
pushed one more time to open the gift. My parents finally acquiesced. They were
apparently tired of hearing from their pushy son. I sacrificed the meal of
seven fishes and opened the gift.
It was the best dream gift I had ever received, and
I immediately began skimming through the instructions to pick my first project.
By the time my parents came home, I had assembled a Ferris wheel. Even they
were impressed. “Potrebbe finire per
possedere un carnevale un giorno!” my father had remarked. (translation: He
may end up owning a carnival someday)
Well, I never ended up owning a carnival, nor did I
have any desire to own one. I am not a huge fan of Ferris wheels. But to this
day, it still begged the question: Did my preference for childhood toys predict
my future? Sort of, but not exactly.
I ended up with three vocations in life: engineer,
minister, writer.
Certainly, the Erector Set forecasted my
engineering side. The toy had little to do with my minister side which is more
the call of God on one's life, but my childhood experiences always manage to weave themselves
into my writing like my first novel titled A
Letter From Miss Wingate. So, two out of three is not bad.
Oh, there’s one more thing. I love assembling Ikea
furniture! There are not many people who can say that! It’s not a whole lot
different than an Erector Set with no verbal instructions … and only pictures
to lead your way. And there are always parts or a bolt-fastener left over after
the job is finished.
Share a thought with me. Pick either question or
both:
1. What your
best or worst experience assembling something from Ikea?
2. Was there
a favorite toy in your life that predicted your future?
Robert Parlante
Christmas 2017
