In the town where I grew up, we had a local, family-run hardware store. During most of the year, it carried the usual household appliances, not very interesting to a kid, but come Christmas, the store seemingly waved a magic wand, and created Candy Cane Lane.
We would walk down to the store, very excitedly, at Christmas time. Upon entering, our eyes grew larger as we slowly walked the length of the store aisle, gazing up at the candy canes, bigger than life decorating either side. It seemed to take forever to get there, but always at the end of the aisle, perched high upon a shelf, would be an animated Santa Claus, furiously pedalling a bike, leading the way into an extravaganza of toys!
One Christmas I had a different reason for heading to this store. For some reason, the owners had on loan to them, a real baby tiger. I do not remember how they came to get him, or why, but I knew I had to see him. From the time I was small, tigers had been my favourite animal. When I got there, he was in the front window, lying on a bed of warm blankets, just like a babe in a manger. He was absolutely gorgeous! A soft and lovable furry baby with the most beautiful eyes. I decided then and there that he was the only thing I wanted for Christmas.
My parents tried to explain to me, to no avail, that neither they or Santa could give him to me, as he was a wild animal, and had to live with his mother in the jungle, but all their reasons why fell on deaf little ears. I was SURE Santa would bring him to me. I lived for that tiger, and would race down to see him every single day. The toys in the store held no meaning for me any more...the tiger was something much more magical, and he was real!
I am sure that Christmas, my parents must have been worried at how I would react to not finding the real tiger, under the Christmas tree. Particularly because I was never a kid that wanted any specific toy or game. I was always very happy with what I got, but this was a pure longing, coming from love deep within my heart and soul...nothing like I had ever felt before.
I remember coming downstairs on Christmas morning, the house dark, but the tree all aglow. Underneath was laden with beautifully wrapped presents, and of course the gifts from Santa were out front, unwrapped, as usual. And there in front, sat a wonderful tiger, with the most gorgeous golden eyes!
Of course he was stuffed, and a pyjama bag to boot, but I loved him the moment I set eyes on him, and he was the only childhood toy I took with me when I left home, years later. I still had him up to a few years ago, when unfortunately, a mouse got in the closet I kept him in, and made a nice bed out of of him, so I had to throw him away. But the memory of the Christmas that I wanted a live tiger will remain with me forever.
Copyright Lori Kindrat Cowan
