My best Christmas was a doll from my father at age 4. My parents were divorced and he was not allowed to see me. He went to a store up the block and called the house. My two brothers left and came back with a large wrapped box. No name. They handed it to me. It was the most beautiful blonde baby doll with sleepy eyes I had ever seen.
That doll was my favorite toy growing up. Nobody told me who had given her to me until years later after I threw her away (all her hair was long gone) that my father had given the doll to me. I was heartbroken since he had passed away. I never got the chance to tell him how special she was to me and how it was the best gift I had ever received.