We lived on a rural route, RR1, Box 497, I think. Like all folks in the country or even in small towns, we ordered a lot from the Sears and Roebuck catalogue. The Christmas Catalogue was, of course, my favorite. I could drool over it for hours making lists of all that I wanted, which was probably most everything. It seems in retrospect that the candy section was one of my favorites even though I never recall ever having received anything from that section of the catalogue. I was undeservedly spoiled rotten and had ways that worked very well of getting what I wanted, but Christmas was different. Santa had his own ideas about what I should receive. Like the year a large box was delivered by Mr. Foster, the rural route carrier, while my parents were away from the house. Of course I had to check it out. I have no idea why my mother or father was in need of an electric train but they must have been because I didn't recall having asked for one. I assembled the track, hooked it up and played for a half hour or more before I quickly packed it away and rewrapped it before my parents returned home. Now don't tell me that a seven year old did such a great job of repacking it that any adult would not have noticed, but it was never once mentioned. Christmas morning it was nicely wrapped under the Christmas tree and I feigned my best, Oh what a surprise! I should have gone into acting or at least politics. Even though I hadn't asked for it, in all due consideration it was a lot better than, although not as usable, as the feet-in red and white flannel pajamas with cartoon characters that I received when I was twenty-two. Santa had a sense of humor.