
CHRISTMAS may be over for another year but as several wise locals can attest, some gifts and memories will bring joy for a lifetime.
For Valda Wright, for instance, “Teddy” was never just a toy.
He was a miracle.
Growing up in the difficult years after the war, money was tight and gifts were practical rather than wished for.
A teddy bear was a luxury, until the Christmas her mother quietly made it happen.
After scrimping and saving, and paying it off through Grace Bros, Valda’s mother presented her with the bear she had admired for so long.
“I remember opening the box and being in absolute awe,” Valda recalls.
“He was mine, not a hand-me-down.”
Teddy became her constant companion, dressed in doll clothes lovingly sewn by her mother.
He went everywhere with her, heard her secrets, comforted her through tears and joy, and silently witnessed every chapter of her life.
He watched her children grow from a shelf, travelled with her through homes and life changes, and still sits nearby today.
Worn with age but carefully dressed, Teddy remains Valda’s trusted confidant.
“He brings me peace,” she says.
“Best money my mother ever spent.”
Man’s best toy friend
Andrew Archer can’t remember a Christmas without “Goggie”.
The soft, well-loved Pluto dog has been part of his life for as long as his memory reaches back, quietly accompanying his childhood without fanfare or a clearly remembered moment of arrival.
“I’m not even sure who gave it to me,” Andrew says, “it’s just always been there.”
Years later, when Andrew moved into his first home, his mother returned Goggie to him, recognising its place in the story of his life.
Since then, the treasured toy has been carefully kept, a tangible link to simpler days.
Goggie holds special significance beyond comfort and nostalgia.
It appears in one of the only baby photos Andrew has with his brother, capturing a moment of early connection and the beginnings of their brotherly bond.
At Christmas, Goggie stirred memories of childhood, family and togetherness.
“It takes me right back,” Andrew says.
“It reminds me of being a kid, of my brother and of where it all started.”
Janey the doll
Linda Jury was just four years old when her grandmother gave her a doll she named Janey, a Christmas gift that would remain part of her life and a playful companion for more than six decades.
Janey was no ordinary doll.
She said “Mama” when rocked and could walk when Linda held her hand.
From the moment she was unwrapped, Linda was enchanted.
“Even at that age, I remember how excited I was,” she says.
As Linda grew older, Janey moved with her from house to house, a constant presence through changing chapters of life.
She became more than a toy, she was a companion, a comfort and a reminder of Linda’s close bond with her Nan and the Christmases they shared.
Time took its toll, and eventually Janey became worn.
Three years ago, with a heavy heart, Linda donated her to a charity store.
Though no longer physically present, Janey remains deeply cherished.
“She’ll always remind me of my Nan,” Linda says, “and of the love wrapped up in that Christmas gift.”
The music box
Ann Field’s treasured Christmas memory begins at a festive party at the Punchbowl RSL Club, a place tied closely to her family’s history.
Her father had served in World War II, and the club was a familiar setting for celebration and remembrance.
That Christmas, Ann received a delicate music box with a twirling ballerina inside.
As the music played and the dancer spun, something magical was set in motion.
“It sparked a lifelong love of decorative boxes,” Ann says.
Decades later, the music box still plays its tune, though time has left its mark.
The ballerina no longer twirls as she once did, however the charm remains intact.
The box stands as a reminder of childhood wonder, of family gatherings, and of the moment a simple gift became the beginning of a lifelong passion.
The encyclopaedias that travelled the world
Morag Maskell’s most treasured Christmas gift didn’t sparkle or sing; it educated, inspired and endured.
Her Odhams Young People’s Encyclopaedia set, four blue hard-covered books with gold lettering and a matching dictionary, became a cornerstone of her childhood.
Her father made the gift even more special by building a shelf from a wooden orange box just for the books.
They were well used during her school years and remained in her bedroom in the family home in Scotland as she grew older.
When her parents passed away, Morag ensured the encyclopaedias stayed with her, shipping them all the way to Australia.
Today, they sit proudly in her bookcase, rich with memory.
“They’re a real treasure from my childhood,” she says.
By Jacie WHITFIELD
