There’s a special kind of magic tied to Christmas wishes, and for many of us, it was wrapped in the pages of the Sears and JCPenney holiday catalogs. These weren’t just catalogs—they were portals to dreams, bursting with possibilities. Every December, those thick, glossy books arrived like gifts themselves, brimming with vibrant photos of toys, gadgets, and treasures that seemed just within reach.
As a child, I distinctly remember the day my mom would present the catalog to me and my sister. It was an event—a ritual of sorts. We’d sit side by side, flipping through the pages with wide eyes, the colorful toy section dazzling us with its endless wonders. I never dared to circle anything or make marks on the pages; to me, that would have been like defacing a masterpiece. Instead, I admired everything carefully, page by page, committing my favorites to memory.
The EZ Bake Oven always caught my eye. It wasn’t just a toy—it was a promise of possibility. I imagined myself creating magical cakes and cookies, just like my mom, who had a way of making the simplest treats feel like something extraordinary. Though I never ended up with an EZ Bake Oven on Christmas morning, the dreams it sparked stayed with me, nurturing my love for creativity and the little joys of life.
For many, those catalogs were more than a shopping guide—they were an escape, a time to dream together as a family. Paging through them was a shared experience, one that today’s generation of online shoppers might never fully understand. There was something about holding the catalog in your hands, feeling the weight of it, and marveling at the bright illustrations that made everything feel so real.
Now, as we hustle through the convenience of online wish lists and same-day deliveries, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve lost a bit of the magic. Do we take the time to dream the way we used to? Do we still pause to savor the joy of imagining what could be?
For those of you who remember the catalogs, what was your wish? Maybe it was a coveted doll, a shiny bike, or even something as quirky as a Snoopy snow cone machine. Whatever it was, I hope you carry a little bit of that Christmas magic with you today.
And for those who didn’t grow up with the magic of the Sears or JCPenney catalogs, maybe this is the year to start your own tradition. It doesn’t have to involve a catalog—maybe it’s a special evening flipping through recipe books, picking out holiday treats to bake, or sitting together to create a handwritten wish list. After all, Christmas isn’t about the gifts—it’s about the dreams, the memories, and the people we share them with.
So, what’s your favorite childhood Christmas wish?