Let There Be Light

Being the youngest of 7, sometimes Santa would address gifts to multiple siblings – slightly disappointing, but even more disappointing was getting some knock off of the toy you originally asked for – the cheaper version, if you will. But that’s another story.

In the winter of 1975 not only did I get what I asked for, but also it was addressed to me specifically. This treasured item was mine - all mine. The gift was a Lite Brite.

With much anticipation I set up the black construction paper between the plastic holders and cautiously lined up the circled letters within the holes. A tedious job but well worth the trouble. The circled letters corresponded with which plastic, colored peg needed in order to create an illuminated masterpiece. Oh, how I couldn’t wait to create things with light.

The canvas was set. The peg was held tightly in my little fingers. Carefully, I popped the first hole into the paper and the peg lit up with a glory that can only be compared to Indy and his Ark of the Covenant. It was almost too magnificent to behold with the naked eye.

I continued to follow the directions, green peg here, and red peg there - slowly and beautifully my shining work of art came into being. With the last peg pressed gently into its place, my diligent work had been accomplished. I sat back and admired this brilliant spectacle.

Beaming with pride, I rushed my Mom over to see my creation. Of course, she loved it. How could she not? Her daughter was a truly talented artist.

Then I went over to my Dad. He had been sipping a little bit too much of the eggnog but managed to plop down next to me onto the floor and curiously examined this design. He asked how it all worked and before I could even answer, he picked up an extra peg - as fast as lightning - and he aimed that peg at the canvas as if it were a heat-seeking missile, proceeded to pop a hole into the darkness, only to remove it which left behind a bright, full-moon-of-a-blemish on my marvelous work of genius. Oh, the agony of it all. I was too stunned and too small to retaliate.

Thankfully, the gift came with several different pictures - so, back to the drawing board I went and all was right with the world.

Today, I am still repulsed by eggnog.