Friday, February 14, 2025, 1:02PM |  19°
MENU
Advertisement
WEB Goodness illustration 1219 Best Gift Ever Received 1000px Libercus Media Files Sunday Desk
23
MORE

What's the greatest gift anyone has ever given you?

James Hilston/Post-Gazette

What's the greatest gift anyone has ever given you?

good gifts

We asked readers, “What’s the greatest gift anyone has ever given you?”

And our readers gifted us with a pile of wonderful responses, which we loved opening and now sharing, in the spirit of the holidays, with you. 

We here at goodness, which is nearing its one-year anniversary, wish everyone a good winter season as this year ends and a gift of a new one begins. 

Advertisement

She was enrobed by a teacher’s kindness

Clark Ehman, 14, collected 450 baseball bats over the past year. They’re part of the massive amount of baseball equipment the Obama Academy freshman and Observatory Hill native will send to the Dominican Republic and Venezuela with the Pirates’ assistance.
Jason Mackey
'Really impressive': Young Pirates fan, with team's assistance, leads massive equipment drive

During my lifetime, I have received many gifts. One particular gift stands out. In 1971, I was a student in business classes in my senior year at Fort Cherry High School, and during my study halls, I served as a secretary to Mrs. Connie Hall. I typed and reproduced her tests for her classes, along with performing other miscellaneous tasks on her behalf. 

She was the school’s one Black teacher. I was white and my family was quite poor. 

Just before Christmas that year, Mrs. Hall showed up at my shabby home and surprised me with a large, gift-wrapped present. I remember it so clearly. Inside was a zip-up-the-back, finely-quilted robe from Lerner’s — remember Lerner’s on Fifth Avenue, Downtown? It was white on the long-sleeved bodice with tiny red dots, and the floor-length skirt was red with tiny white dots. It fit me perfectly.

Advertisement

I felt like a princess wearing that robe, and I still have such a fond memory of receiving such a lovely, generous and unexpected gift. Thank you, Mrs. Hall, not only for your thoughtfulness, but also for the way your gift made me feel, both then and now. It was the best gift I ever received!

KATHI JOBKAR

Oakdale

This one is deer to her

I have luckily been given many wonderful gifts but several years ago, Lowe's had this immense lighted outdoor deer sculpture. I no longer care much about "things" but I loved it so much that when at the Waterfront, I would visit it (often! lol). I could have bought it but I’m really trying to downsize and not have a house filled with Halloween and Christmas decor.

Christmas Eve, I think, my daughter and boyfriend went outside and I was busy inside. They called me out for "something" and they had bought "my" deer, assembled and lit him up. I literally screamed with happiness and I am not a screamer. Day after Christmas, Hubby took me to Lowe's and we bought him a mate. They have had to be rewired with lights since then but I still get teary and joyful when I look out my window and see them sparkling. I am truly blessed in so many ways!

LAURENE KASPER

West Mifflin

It paid off

My husband, Bruce, and I liked to go to the casino. So when I retired after 40 years of working, my husband surprised me with my own slot machine. Although my husband passed away last year, we enjoyed playing our slots for six years and frequently told each other it was "the best gift, ever!"

CINDY POGYOR 

Elizabeth Township

This puts him on her ‘good’ list

It might sound hokey, but it's the truth.

My greatest gift was when the cutest blonde from Punxsutawney said "I do" on June 7, 1980. I have been so blessed with Michale, a wonderful wife who became a great mother and an outstanding grandmother. They say the odds of hitting the "Mega Millions" or "Power Ball" are astronomical. On that day in Punxsutawney, I hit them both — and then some!

CHIP HERRMANN 

Rosslyn Farm

She titles this ‘Christmas 1956’

In 1956, like every year, we got our Christmas tree from the Knights of Columbus, who had a lot at the end of Third Street, just past the cemetery in Beaver where the Brighton Hot Dog Shop now stands. My Dad drove down Third Street through Beaver, passing all the stores like the Five and Dime, Kretchmar’s Bakery, Fisher Hardware and The Shirley Shop. I was enjoying the decorations and looking at the people out shopping.

It was about two weeks before Christmas, and I was the only kid in the station wagon riding along with Dad to help pick out the tree. I was 11 and the oldest of six kids. It was dark out but seemed so bright because of all the Christmas lights.

At that time, Beaver had lights strung across the main street, which made everything look so pretty, or at least it did to this 11-year-old. The radio was on and a song called “True Love” was playing. Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly were singing the duet from the movie “High Society.” I loved that song.

As we drove down the street, I mentioned to my dad how much I loved the song and never thought much about it after that. Lucky for me, I got to hear the whole song before we got to the tree lot. I, of course, sang along. We arrived at the lot, and I loved the smell of the trees mixed in with that of a fire burning in an old oil barrel. After some obligatory conversation, we picked out our tree, helped the men load it onto the top of the station wagon and headed home the same way we came.

On Christmas morning as I looked under the tree for “my pile” of presents, I saw one of the most precious gifts I have ever received: In front of me was a record player with just one record on top — “True Love” by Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly. I realized just how much my dad listened to us without our knowing it.

I cannot watch the movie without thinking about that Christmas and my dad. Many Christmases have come and gone along with “piles” of presents, but that one stands out as one of the most precious I ever received. And I still love that song. 

CECE POISTER

Sewickley

She shoots and scores!

As a child, I had the best godfather ever, Mr. Edward Balash, who lavished me with wonderful birthday and Christmas gifts. For Christmas 1967, he gave me a rod hockey game. I played that game with my brothers, cousins and friends constantly until we broke the rods and gears. 

MIKE HANCZAR

Beaver

His sons should have franchised this

When my sons were just kids they always asked me, "Dad, what do you want for Christmas?"

I would always respond, "Peace and quiet.”

Years passed with the same question and same response.

Then one Christmas, my younger son, then 7, presented me with a wrapped box, which was very light.

As I unwrapped it, he beamed with pride. My older son was smiling. I opened the box and was baffled.

"Dad it is what you have always wanted!" my son said. 

Yes it was! A beautiful empty box of Peace and Quiet.

I could feel tears in my eyes and smiled at that little face. “Thank you” is all I could say.

That box is 42 years old and still in my closet. 

PAUL JACKSON

Irwin 

This gift was a hit

Christmas 2008 stands out as a shining jewel in the treasures of my life.

October 17 that year found me in an ambulance, and after a major scare, I spent the rest of the fall recuperating from what had been determined to be a mild heart attack.

So as fall progressed, I gratefully, thankfully and prayerfully prepared for Christmas. At our house, the big day is actually Dec. 26. The six grandchildren that year were young enough that they needed to await Santa at their own houses, so the day after was our family Christmas Day.

Finally our Christmas arrived, along with my son and two daughters and their families. The scents of Pinesol, Pledge and Febreze from my flurry of last-minute cleaning took second place to the aroma of a pineapple-brown sugar glazed ham in the oven, pumpkin and apple pies on the cooling racks and the sweet-scented pine and cinnamon candles.

We put the ham on hold — first things first — and attacked a mountain of presents in the living room. In our family, the kids each choose a gift, open it simultaneously and then proceed to the next gift. Then the adults open gifts according to age — youngest to oldest. Since I out-rank my husband by three years, Grandma is always last. 

I opened a book, a sweater, a bracelet and some cologne. And then, the final gift was brought to me by my grandson in a Build-a-Bear box. I was getting a Teddy bear?

I opened the box and lifted out a caramel-colored cuddly, smiling bear wearing a miniature Pittsburgh Pirates t-shirt. I oohed and aahed over my new furry companion as 7-year-old Caitlyn announced, “Her name is Summer,” and 3-year-old Connor informed me, “I got to put her heart in.” I was so touched by their love and this reminder of my beloved Pirates that by then some happy tears were in my eyes.

But, from across the room, my son Brian announced, “Mom, there are some papers in the box.” I fished in the box and came up with Summer’s official birth certificate. But, again from across the room, Brian prodded me, “Mom — there are some other papers in the box.” So again I looked in the box and the “other papers” included a congratulatory email informing me of a March weekend trip to Pirates spring training in Bradenton, Fla., and the trip’s itinerary. Those happy tears were now rolling down my cheeks.

My two daughters and son and I were booked on flights, for a hotel and a rental car and the proud owners of a Pirates spring training three-game package. 

The kindness, thoughtfulness and generosity of those three kids will warm my heart forever. That year, they were 38, 35 and 31, and they certainly knew how to provide their mom with a treat of a lifetime.

From beginning to end, the trip itself was amazing. Three exciting games in 85-degree weather, getting autographs, a souvenir baseball and baseball earrings, dinner each evening at beachfront restaurants, and the best hot dogs ever were all beautiful memories. Meeting and greeting both Steve Blass and Neil Walker and having pictures taken with both of them provided the icing on the cake!! I was further amazed when the picture of Neil Walker and I appeared on the Pirates website for both the 2009 and 2010 baseball seasons. Grandma’s 15 minutes (or so) of fame!!

Thirteen years later, the glow of that Christmas surprise remains. 

KAY HAGGART MILLS

Beaver Falls

Where’s the beef? 

It was a Sunday afternoon before a Monday holiday when I received a call from my supervisor. He told me they needed me to be in the office on the holiday for a few hours to complete a report, which needed to be submitted on Tuesday. So we agreed to a time to meet in the office, and I finished the report and submitted it. No big deal.

Back in the office on Tuesday, I got a call that the president of the company needed to see me in his office. I instantly thought there was a problem, as I was rarely summoned to the front office. As I walked into the president’s office, he stood, shook my hand and told me how much he appreciated me coming in on my day off to complete a task. He also gave me a gift certificate to a local steakhouse. This was completely unexpected but very much appreciated.

I have thought about this many times and related it to co-workers since as some of the best recognition I have ever received. It was such a small gesture but so huge for me because it showed me that others recognized and appreciated the importance of my contribution, no matter how small it might have been. "The gift" was not the nice thank you and gift certificate; instead, it was my recognition that these small gestures can make a huge difference in another's life. It was something I’ve tried to carry forward with me, and I’m hoping others reading this will do the same. 

HERB BYRNS

Oakmont

A friend gave a lift during a hairy situation

When I had breast cancer for the second time three years ago and lost my hair from chemo, one of my friends arrived at work one day with a giant tote bag full of wigs in every color of the rainbow. I wore every one of them and matched them to my outfits. The running joke was that on any given day, my hair matched my shoes. It took something that I shed tears over and made it a lot of fun. It’s hard to think of someone as a cancer victim if they have purple hair!

LYNN REID

McCandless

This one is a real soap opera

Two years ago in November, I traveled to a soap opera fan event in Florida to meet one of my favorite stars from “The Young and the Restless,” Melissa Ordway, and while she wasn't there, I did get to meet Camryn Grimes, and she was very sweet and apologized for not being Melissa Ordway, and made me feel like the most important person in the room. She even accepted the itty bittys that I had purchased for Melissa Ordway's adorable little girls. She agreed to deliver them to the Ordway family and to my pleasant surprise she did, and Ms. Ordway’s youngest daughter, Sophie, even took the “Frozen” itty bitty to the “Frozen 2” premiere and it warmed my heart.

Ms. Grimes showed that she was going to use her star status for more than just making herself feel good — to help other people. Mom and I felt, as we watched her growing up through the years on the screen, that getting to meet her and having it go well, plus having that additional successful delivery, was one of the nicest gifts I have ever received. A gift repeat, as Mom would call it.

ROBERT GREGG

Imperial

They were busted flat in Philly when ... 

On Christmas Eve 2001, my then-fiancee and I were returning home to the Pittsburgh area after a holiday visit with her parents and brother in Philadelphia. Awaiting us here were my beloved Mother and precious collie, Cami.

We left Philadelphia in mid-morning, allowing plenty of time to enable us to arrive home before dark. While driving on Interstate 476 in the Philadelphia area, we suffered a flat tire. Regrettably, neither of us was able to change it. I went to the nearest pay phone to call AAA (today, we always have a cell phone when on the road), and before a serviceperson could arrive, a good Samaritan stopped. He graciously mounted the small spare tire, the type which is not intended for extensive driving. I attempted to give him $20 for his trouble, but this kind soul would not hear of it, saying, "Just have a merry Christmas.”

We starting driving to an auto repair facility to have a new, regular-size tire installed, and after a few miles, before we could get there, the spare tire went flat. We waited by the side of the road for AAA again. While we were waiting, countless individuals stopped to ask what was wrong and what they could do for us, which under the circumstances, was nothing.

I called one auto repair store nearby and asked what would be the latest one could come in that day to have a tire installed, and was told 4 p.m.. After waiting for more than an hour in the cold for AAA to arrive, we were towed there and the car disengaged from the truck.

When we got to the counter before 3 p.m., we were told by the service manager, who would not look at us, that it was too late for tire service. I told him that we had been told that the store would accept customers for tire service until 4. He disavowed that information, stating that the facility was too busy to do the work.

Despite our pleadings that we would be stranded in Philadelphia over Christmas if he would not help us, he refused to relent.

I saw that there was a Firestone store across the road that appeared to be open. I went out to the tow truck driver, who was still present, and asked if he could tow us to another facility down the road. He said that he could not help us, as he had other calls, but that he would eventually try to return. Of course, by then, it would be too late.

I slowly drove to Firestone on a flat tire, and encountered a service manager who was an angel. He agreed to help us!

I overheard him on the phone speaking to his wife, advising that he was going to be home later than expected, as my wife and I had arrived in desperate need of service and he could not refuse us. He also delayed the departure of his service technician so that we could get on the road with four roadworthy tires.

Although we did not arrive home until 10 p.m., far later than we had hoped and planned for, it was a most joyous holiday. I had never been so happy to see my mother and my dog!

During our holiday that almost wasn't, I encountered some of the best in humanity, which enabled our unwelcome adventure to have a happy ending. 

OREN SPIEGLER 

Peters

What my mother gave me

What is the best gift anyone has ever given me? My mother, Ruth Devlin, instilled in me and my five siblings a lifelong yearning to stay active throughout our lives. She did not say a word. She showed us through her example. Even as she approaches her 97th birthday, my mother is one of the most active people I know.

My mother grew up with two brothers and a sister in Williamsport. She became very athletic because of all the softball games she played with her brothers after school. She majored in physical education and biology and excelled in tennis at East Stroudsburg State Teacher’s College. She was working on a master’s degree during the summer months at Pennsylvania State University when she met my father in 1948. That began her legacy as a mother who raised six children on Grubbs Road in McCandless and teacher in the North Allegheny School District.

My mother’s life has not always been an easy road. She suffered a stroke in 2013 that affected the left side of her body. Then in 2015 she fell and broke her hip. To say that having a partial hip replacement at 89 years while still recovering from a stroke is tough is an understatement! After this she required assistance with a walker when previously she had been assisting many residents and friends where she lives at Masonic Village in Sewickley.

I am now in my 60s and there are many activities that I love to do. Although I have had many aches and pains, I am determined to overcome these setbacks because I want to swim again at the Baierl Family YMCA or walk in North Park. This wanting to be active runs in my veins. It runs through my sisters and brothers and hopefully our two children and grandchildren. Our mother has given us this treasure through her shining example every day of her life.

GRETCHEN DONALDSON

Franklin Park

Nine decades later 

I am 93, soon to be 94, and believe sincerely that the gift of life from God and my mother and father still is the very best. 

PATRICIA STRUTT

Harmony

The Marathon did not ice her

I was an avid but very mediocre runner when I found out several years ago that the Pittsburgh Marathon would accept walkers for the half.  I thought, “I could do that. I could walk 13 miles.” So I registered, did it and enjoyed it immensely. Then I thought, “If I can walk 13 miles, surely I could run 26.” This seemed to make sense at the time. The logic eludes me now.

Marathon day started out cool then gradually warmed, the sun beating down. Late in the race after the sweep bus (that picks up stragglers who won't finish in the six-hour time limit) had long since gone by, I found myself exhausted, hot and dehydrated, not even sure where I was or how far I had to go. I could see no runners behind me or ahead of me.

Then I noticed an old house set back from the road. An elderly woman was coming up the walkway towards the street. She had one hand cupped, holding something I could not see. As she approached me I slowed and stopped in front of her. She said, 'Here, this is for you.” Somewhat tentatively I held out my hand and she placed in it an ice cube. An ice cube! The simplest of gifts. The perfect gift.

I smiled broadly, thanked her, then held it against my hot cheeks and ran it up and down my sunburned arms until it melted away. I went on, refreshed.

JAN NEHILLA 

Forest Hills

‘Snow much fun

All I wanted for Christmas 1967 was snow. All I dreamed about was skiing, despite not knowing how to or having skis. I was 12 years old.

Late autumn and early winter Saturday afternoons in the ’60s, and ABC’s Wide World of Sports, gave me ski fever. Jim McKay commented, interviewed and educated viewers on the nuances of the World Cup event races: Slalom, downhill and giant slalom; the intro catchphrase and clip, “The thrill of victory and agony of defeat,” captivated my imagination.

Ski fever gripped me tighter than a spandex bodysuit on a Grand Slalom racer. So snug, it took a while to suit up and even longer to peel off.

Christmas morning of 1967’s surprise gift was a pair of brand new skis stacked against the fireplace. The 6-foot-long wooden boards had screwed-in metal edges and toe-release cable spring bindings, with metal ski poles sporting leather grips, straps and cages, ending with a sharp bevel-edged metal tip. I stood under 5-feet tall.

It was the best Christmas gift EVER!

Disposable income was in short supply for our family during the 1960s. Our Christmas gifts were practical — PJ’s, socks, underwear and clothes —  with our smaller wish gift one other item, whether it was a toy, game, educational item or book. Any large wish items, such as a bike or skates, became our combined Christmas/birthday gift.

Even though my parents stressed this gift was for sharing with my brothers, I didn’t care! I wanted to ski, emulating my idol and tween-to-teen heartthrob crush, 1968 Grenoble Winter Olympic three-time gold medal winner Jean-Claude Killy of France. The essence of dashing, in his tousled hair and turtlenecks. Sigh.

Learning to ski on those long and skinny first boards was an exercise in true grit and determination.

It didn’t hurt too much to fall. We skied down the hill, right in front of our house on Roswin Drive. The original ski-out/trudge-in ski lodge. We learned by trial and error. By applying a bit more pressure on the inside edge of the ski — voila — the skis would turn! Weeks later, the practice paid off as we flew down the slope, shaky snowplows and inelegant esses all adding up to success. Dad captured the moment with his Kodak 8-millimeter movie camera.

Skiing was fun and became a favorite winter activity. Not just a sport, but a lifestyle in the pursuit of finding the best slopes, improving technique, achieving the zen of an effortless run, parallel skis carving esses and the penultimate nirvana, aka schussing. Exercising in the brisk air offered both mental and physical challenges, not only on the mountain but during the journey, getting there through blizzards, ice storms and dense fog.

Who knew, my tween crush and a pair of 6-foot-long skis would foster a love of winter. ”Snow much fun on the mountain,” we said to each other, crowding near the fireplace, sipping hot toddies apres ski, recounting our day, reliving our runs, some with the thrill of victory and others with the agony of defeat.

LINDA J. DIMITROFF

Brookline

A pat on the back 

The best present I ever received was back surgery done by Dr. Gary Schmidt. He gave me back my life. Instead of using a cane and being sidelined with chronic pain, I've been able to walk pain-free and enjoy life again.

DENISE NOVAK

Ross 

‘The Treasure of Love’

Growing up in the 1950s was a time of musical magic! My family believed that music makes the world go ‘round. Lee Barrett, my father, entertained people for more than 50 years with his big band music. I still remember the Four Coins and Bobby Vinton rehearsing at our home. Perry Como and Dean Martin sang with his orchestra before becoming famous.

My parents owned Lee’s record shop in Washington, Pa., and, when old enough to work the register, I became acquainted with every genre of music. Teens were obsessed with having an enviable record collection. My older sister had an enormous advantage. I pestered my sister to include me when she and her friends listened to their records. 

When she got married in 1960, not only did she and her husband join lives, but they also combined their record collections into a handcrafted, red wooden box. The newlyweds gave it to me for Christmas. 

The red box still exists and I now possess a collection of 3,000-plus records. Their gift, in the words of Clyde McPhatter who recorded this song in 1956, is a “Treasure of Love” that definitely came from the heart. 

BEVERLY IMPERATORE 

Canonsburg

This was mailed in an envelope with a Clyde McPhatter stamp. 

Christmas on strike 

It was the 1950s. I was a teenager. 

My father worked at Westinghouse Electric, and they were on strike. They had been on strike for a while. 

We had very little money or food. We would take a wagon to the union office to get free food or food vouchers. 

I had three sisters — one older and two still pretty young (waiting for Santa). 

A week before Christmas my uncles and aunts collected money and brought it and a live Christmas tree to us. 

On Christmas Eve, a group of people came to our door and brought Christmas gifts. I’m not sure who there were — maybe union or town people.

My sisters were already in bed. So Santa did come.

SHIRLEY LIVENGOOD

Wilmerding

The Carnegie connection

While rooting through bins to find my Christmas decorations, I was surprised to come across the certificate for the Dale Carnegie Training from 1998.

The reason why this is the best gift is because it was completely selfless, not expected and still helps me today.

While I was working at Premier Salon that year, shampooing and styling a client, the conversation came up.

The client’s name was Patricia LeClair, a beautiful woman with an amazing heart.

She wanted to help me grow by sending me to a class or an education show.

My boss, Arnold Zegarelli, had suggested taking the Dale Carnegie Course.

Patricia loved the idea and agreed.

I wish I could thank her again.

It truly is the gift that keeps on giving!

BRANDY WANK

Overbook

A more innocent time

The best gift I ever got was a red Schwinn 28-inch Roadmaster bicycle in 1957 when I was 8 years old. It was like the Cadillac of bikes back then. With front tank and back seat rack, we could ride three kids to a bike. My older brother and I both got one but I had blocks to reach the pedals on mine.

The only social media we kids had was reading comic books while eating fresh picked crab apples and meeting at our secret clubhouse in the woods; we played games like kick the stick, kick the can (parentally forbidden because you could get hurt with flying cans) and whiffle ball. Our families didn’t have a lot of money; we would cover holes in our shoes with newspaper until we could get to the shoe repairman. Our umbrellas were fixed and scissors and knives sharpened by the bell-ringing street repairman. Street hucksters sold fruit and vegetables, milk was delivered to the padded aluminum box on the front porch and every neighborhood had a grocery store within walking distance. A nickel would fill up a small bag with candy.

And nobody had guns. My parents had been through World War II and were uncomfortable with my brother and I even playing with guns. If someone in the neighborhood owned a gun everyone knew it. We seldom if ever heard of anyone getting shot. But I still can see the big, beautiful Roadmaster bikes that my dad and uncle spent the whole night before Christmas putting together and it reminds me of a more innocent time that will never be again.

GREG HANRATTY

McKeesport

What a doll

Around 1964, my Mom sewed a gown and jacket for my Midge doll and gave to me for Christmas.

Every stitch was made with love.

I am now 68 years young. Mom has been gone for many years.

I still have, and treasure,  the outfit.

CATHY SIKORA

Millvale

With friends’ help, he gifted himself sobriety 

I knew I was drinking too much, and I couldn't stop it.

On May 16, 2019, my mother collapsed, and they got her to the hospital alive. She was on life support and would die on the 18th.

It was 50 days until I called a friend and begged her to drive me to the hospital at midnight on July 7, 2019. I had seen my own funeral and had enough. She was the first person to help me.

The staff at The Westmoreland Hospital’s mental health unit was instrumental in getting me on meds and into a rehab program. I was clinically depressed, and the drinking was driving me off a cliff.

My brother called me everyday to make sure I was OK. The other patients, we supported each other.

One of my best friends dropped everything on the hottest day of the year and helped me move back in with my recently widowed father. He didn't understand, but he didn’t have to: He just wanted to help. He didn’t think I should be alone and supported me financially and emotionally.

My employer said, “Come back when you’re ready. You have a job.” The friends that I drank were 100% SUPPORTIVE. I didn’t become a pariah because I didn’t drink anymore. One of the bar owners at a place I drank frequently put his arm around me and said, "Scotty, we don’t care if you drink. We love you. We want you here no matter what."

I stopped to buy beer because we were having a picnic that afternoon. "I’m not selling this to you. Get out of here," the clerk said.

“It’s not for me, honest,” I said.

"If I find out you were drinking, I promise I will find you and kick your [butt],” he answered.

The professionals at Forge Health in Greensburg helped saved my life. I did 36 outpatient group rehab sessions. I can’t praise them enough.

After almost 29 months, I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. I’m financially stable. Taking care of my Dad and helping him has given me a purpose. I do the laundry and groceries and cook a little bit. He’s fairly self-sufficient at age 79.

I talk to my best friend’s wife everyday, and she’s my best friend, too. I still frequent a couple places and hang out with a lot of the same people. My best friend who still drinks says, "You’ll never drink in front of me again," and he means it.

If I listed all the people that helped me give this gift to myself it would take up a whole section.

I’m beyond thankful for the people in my life. 

SCOTT KEENAN

Jeannette

‘He may be an angel’

I just received this gift from a coworker, Keith Pringle, via text, and it has given me hope and inspiration to enter rehab and overcome my dependence on alcohol as I deal with my only sibling's traumatic brain injury, paralysis and sepsis:

“More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame. Romans 5:3.”

His offering brought me great hope. It literally saved my life at age 57.

I barely even know him. He may be an angel.

BOB SIMQU

Wilkins

‘Long after I’m gone

The best gift I ever received happened on June 23, 2008.

Our daughter was about to give birth to our second grandchild in Silver Spring, Md., (the first grandson was born three years earlier in Plano, Texas). My wife and I were honored and overjoyed when our daughter and son-in-law invited us to be present in the delivery room to witness, first hand, the miracle of life taking place right there in Holy Cross Hospital's maternity department. Sharply at 11:00 am, on a beautiful Monday morning, our second grandson arrived. With his eyes closed and mouth wide opened, he loudly let everyone know that, "Here I am!”

After all the close inspections and weighing took place, and after our newest grandson was presented to his Mom and Dad by the medical staff, I, very casually and without any special expectations, said to our son-in-law, "Well, what's your new son's name?" Looking directly in my eyes and smiling broadly he said, "His name is Thomas."

WOW! Tears immediately began to well up in my eyes. I was shocked, honored and overjoyed to say the least and more emotional than I can remember being when my own daughter, Thomas' mother, was born. To think that for the rest of his life, when asked by a friend or stranger how he came to be named Thomas, his answer will be a clear and concise, "I was named after my Grandpa.” To be fortunate to have a second healthy grandson to love and to be proud of and to share my name with my grandson knowing that long after I am gone from this world there will still be a THOMAS in our family, is the best gift I could ever have been given. 

God bless all grandparents and their grandchildren.

THOMAS R. LEVENSON

Upper St. Clair

Was it the bike or the new sister?

I had been begging for a new baby sister for quite awhile. My baby brother was cute, and I love him, but you know what a bother boys can be. He gave my Barbie to our dog for a temporary chew toy! I really needed another girl.

I already had the very best big sister, Margie, who was 10 years my senior. Now I wanted a little sister to take care of, like Margie had always cared for me.

I was sure Mom and Dad could easily pick out a girl to adopt for their last of six children (three biological and three adopted). I've been told that I was very persistent in my requests.

My baby sister was brought home on my fifth birthday. I was so excited, waiting hours for her to arrive. Mom and Dad drove to Wheeling, W.Va., to pick up our adorable 2-month-old bundle of joy. She had the biggest blue eyes, lots of curly, brown hair and surprisingly strong lungs for such a little doll.

I quickly realized that babies cry a lot! Carole's tiny nose lit up like Rudolph's every time she cried. She stopped crying when held. I really wanted to hold her, but Mom and Dad asked me to help carry in baby things from the car trunk.

When the trunk lid sprung open another big surprise was revealed. My very first two-wheeled bike — so pretty, a white Schwinn bicycle, with pink trim! Wow, a baby and a bike!  What a great birthday!

I loved that bike, but I've always loved my baby sister more. We're both adopted, and very blessed to have each other. It isn't actually blood or DNA that makes a family. It is love.

My sister, Carole Veronica Crabtree Walker, is still the very best gift ever!

VYVYANNE LOUISE CRABTREE GILLILAND 

Putnam County, W.Va. 

Now that’s how you celebrate Christmas

The best "gift" I received came on Dec. 25, 1967, at 1:22 in the morning. I was expecting our second baby and was already a week past my due date. All day Christmas Eve I had a feeling something was about to happen.

Towards evening I called the doctor who said I needed to get to the hospital. That meant leaving my 2½-year-old son in the care of my parents. Leaving my first-born on Christmas Eve?

My husband and I headed for the door just as my sister and her fiance were coming home from Christmas Eve worship. She asked where we were going. I told her — to have a baby!

That "baby boy," Mike, has been a blessing and a joy (both boys are!). He did well all through school, college and medical school. He is now a busy general surgeon. What a gift!

LANA LININGER

Penn Hills

Remembering this still makes her cry

My gift has lasted 30 years. It still is wrapped in my heart and so pure in my mind.

It was Christmas Eve 1994. My family lived in Mount Oliver. Times were pretty tough financially for us.

Unexpectedly, there was a knock at our door. It was my sister Diane and her husband, David McBroom. We sat in the living room. Christmas music was playing and my 6-year-old son Brocke was bouncing off the walls in anticipation of Santa.

Diane comes over to me at the couch with a present in hand and says, "Merry Christmas, Bev. " A gift? For me?!

Now at this point, Brocke is zeroed in on his mother opening a present. I curiously open the box unveiling clothes wrapped in tissue paper. My hands shaking, I lift the clothes out of the box. Before my eyes I hold up a maroon long-sleeved tunic top with matching leggings and at the bottom a pair of burgundy dandling earrings with a matching necklace. Diane looks at me and says, "Merry Christmas, Bev. You now have an outfit to wear for Christmas." I just start crying. My son puts his face in mine and asks me, "Mum, why are you crying?" I told him, "Brocke, these are tears of happiness."

Diane knew. I had no outfit for Christmas. I had no money to buy one. I didn't know what I was going to wear.

I am crying now as I write this. Diane's act of sisterly love and compassion on that Christmas Eve day to me is embedded forever in my heart.

I still have my maroon dangling earrings, too.

BEVERLY HOFFMAN

Sheraden

Who needs to exchange gifts?

Growing up in the 1950s in a family that would have five children by 1959 with the oldest nearly 18 years older than the youngest and an ailing father, there wasn't much of an exchange of gifts on Christmas. There didn't have to be.

Every year my parents would purchase a tree and place it on the side porch of our Etna home. It would remain there until Christmas Eve. If we were really good (which we probably weren't), we would be allowed to bring the tree into the house during the late afternoon on Christmas Eve and place the tree in a stand. That was the extent of our decoration help because the Magic of Christmas was about to take over.

Somehow during the night and into the early hours of Christmas Day, our rather small dining room was transformed into the most beautiful site one could imagine. When we awoke what we saw was a beautiful display that my parents (probably my mother more so than my dad) had spent hours to accomplish. I'm sure we were in a rush to open our presents but what we viewed was breathtaking.

I only came to appreciate later in life the time and effort that my parents put into making this happen. I don't remember other neighborhood families following my parents' method, but it was definitely a special time. My siblings and I didn't receive many gifts of great expense, but what our parents did for us was priceless. Our Christmas celebration was second to none. God Bless you, Harry and Ruth Truman!

DALE TRUMAN

West Deer

A Christmas miracle — twice

One of the reasons we look forward to Christmas is that the holiday takes us back to the happiest memories of our childhood, back to a season when, no matter what our daily circumstances, our lives, for at least one day, were filled with the joy of gifts and gatherings.

My own childhood Christmases past were not always filled with joy. Pittsburgh may have been going through a renaissance in the late 1940s and early 1950s, but it had no effect on the struggles of my working-class South Side family. Every Christmas, my mother warned me not to expect too much because Santa Claus always seemed to be having a bad year.

There was a year when Santa outdid himself. Under our tree was a baseball board game that was no less than a Christmas miracle.

I had become a die-hard baseball fan ever since my father took me to my first Pirates game in the spring of 1948, when I was 9 years old, and now here was a game that promised to give me the joy throughout a cold Pittsburgh winter of creating my own games until the next baseball season.

The game, made of wood, was 20-by-20 inches in dimensions. It came with miniature plastic position players and base runners as well as a small plastic baseball and small wooden bat to put the ball in play. The board, with its tan infield and green outfield, was painted to resemble a Major League field. The outfield was ringed off with white lines into diminishing areas for singles, doubles and triples, and had two small pockets of green marked off in deep left and right center field for home runs.

You placed the baseball, which had a flat surface that made it look like half a ball, on home plate and swung at it with the bat. If it landed on a line the batter was out. If you hit the ball and knocked over a plastic figure, you also were out.

The game was fun to play, but the truly magical feature of the board game, was, oddly enough, the foul areas, where the autographs of all-stars from the National and American leagues had been imprinted in white on the green surface of the board game.

I didn’t have much a problem identifying the National League all-stars because I had seen many of the them play against the Pirates at Forbes Field. Thanks to my baseball cards, I was also able to identify most of the all-stars in the American League, but I needed help from my father in identifying a few of the less well-known American Leaguers, a few of them with wonderful baseball names such as Zeke Zarilla and Hoot Evers.

I was thrilled when I found Pirates home-run king Ralph Kiner’s autograph on the board as well as that of his nemesis, Cincinnati Reds pitcher Ewell Blackwell. Kiner once said that Blackwell, with his long arms and sidewinding delivery,  was a “scary pitcher .... your legs shook when you tried to dig in against him because of his sidearm delivery. But I hit more home runs off Blackwell than any other right-hand batter.” He hit two of those home runs in his first two times at bat in the that first Pirates game that I saw with my father.

I spent the rest of Christmas day making a giant scoreboard out of discarded cardboard and placed it in left field, so that it would resemble Forbes Field. I also took out my baseball cards to form teams.

That winter, I played game after game while I waited for the Pirates home opener. When I lost some of the plastic figures, I replaced them with calvary from my miniature Fort Apache set. When I lost the plastic ball, I replaced it with a small lead ball that was one of the prizes in a gum ball machine. When I lost the wooden bat, I replaced it with a crayon. No matter how the field began to resemble the Island of Misfit Toys, it was still my Field of Dreams.

I don’t know what ever happened to that board game. It’s likely that it ended up in our attic, once I was spending my time on real baseball fields, until the day my mother thought it was taking up too much space and pitched it. 

Over the years, I’ve tried to find some information about my long-lost board game. I’ve talked to research librarians during visits to the Baseball Hall of Fame and scanned through the Smithsonian book on the finest private baseball collections in the world and found board games dating back to the late 19th century. The section on board games included Cadaco’s All-Star baseball game, the most popular board game ever invented, but there was no sign of my board game.

I have the hopeless hope, revived each Christmas, that I’ll find some trace, some image, of that board game, but, at the least, I still have my memory of that morning so many years ago when the perfect present for a young baseball fan was waiting for me under the Christmas tree.

RICHARD “PETE” PETERSON

Makanda, Ill. 

Postscript: Based on Mr. Peterson’s description, goodness editor Bob Batz Jr. found one of the game boards, made by Raff, on eBay, the listing for which Mr. Peterson forwarded to his family, who usually struggle to find him good baseball gifts. Not this Christmas. 

 Abby Mackey: Abby Mackey: amackey@post-gazette.com, Twitter @AnthroAbbyRN and IG @abbymackeywrites. Bob Batz Jr.: bbatz@post-gazette.com, 412-263-1930 and on Twitter @bobbatzjr.

First Published: December 19, 2021, 11:00 a.m.

RELATED
SHOW COMMENTS (2)  
Join the Conversation
Commenting policy | How to Report Abuse
If you would like your comment to be considered for a published letter to the editor, please send it to letters@post-gazette.com. Letters must be under 250 words and may be edited for length and clarity.
Partners
Advertisement
The Three Sisters’ bridges are suspended over the Allegheny River as the sun rises over Downtown and PNC Park on Wednesday, Jan. 29, 2025.
1
business
SEA board approves slew of stadium upgrades for Steelers, Pirates, Penguins; Pittsburgh tourism reaches 2019 levels
Mississippi quarterback Jaxson Dart (2) out of the pocket as he looks for an open receiver during the first half of an NCAA college football game, against Mississippi State, Friday, Nov. 29, 2024, in Oxford, Miss. Mississippi won 26-14.
2
sports
Steelers mock draft tracker: Time to talk QBs, including Jaxson Dart and Jalen Milroe
The Colonial-style house at 611 S. Main St. in Elliott was built in 1867 and has Victorian trim.
3
life
Buying Here: 1867 house in the West End is priced at $150,000
During a Tuesday, Feb. 11, press appearance, Elon Musk mentioned the Iron Mountain storage facility in Butler County, where a worker is seen leaving in this file photo from 2000.
4
news
What is the Butler County mine Elon Musk mentioned in a White House appearance?
The administration of Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro -- shown last week delivering the annual budget address -- on Thursday filed a federal lawsuit against the Trump administration over the freeze of federal funding. (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)
5
news
Gov. Shapiro and Pa. agencies sue federal government over Trump administration funding freeze
WEB Goodness illustration 1219 Best Gift Ever Received 1000px Libercus Media Files Sunday Desk  (James Hilston/Post-Gazette)
#goodness A Raff baseball game like Pete Peterson had when he was a boy as found on eBay.
#goodness Courtesy of Brandy Wank Overbrook's Brandy Wank cherishes and still uses the Dale Carnegie Course training that one of her hair salon clients paid for for her (when she was Brandy Cope).
#goodness Courtesy of Robert Gregg Imperial's Robert Gregg, right, says it was a gift to get to meet "The Young and the Restless" star Camryn Grimes in 2019.
#goodness Courtesy of Cindy Pogyor Cindy Pogyor and her husband, Bruce, with niece Monica in front of Pechanga Resort Casino in Temecula, Calif., taken in 2017.
#goodness Courtesy of Dale Truman Dale Truman has in his West Deer home a photo of his later father, Harry Truman, that was taken next to the sign for Etna's Dewey Street where he lived in 1948 and published in the Sun-Telegraph newspaper. That year, a different Harry Truman ran against Thomas Dewey in the presidential election. The back of the photo is signed by the photographer, Morris Berman.
Beaver Falls Kay Haggart Mills's says this bear was her best gift ever -- because it came with a trip to Pirates spring training camp in Florida. Courtesy of Kay Haggart Mills #Goodness  ( Courtesy of Kay Haggart Mills)
#goodness Courtesy of Gretchen Donaldson Gretchen Donaldson learned to be active from her mother, Ruth Devlin, who's now 97 and lives in Sewickley. Ruth is in the back row, second from left, in the group photo of the women's tennis team at East Stroudsburg State Teachers College, circa 1946. The photo of two people is at Penn State with Ruth, left, and a friend, about 1947.
#goodness Courtesy of Gretchen Donaldson Gretchen Donaldson learned to be active from her mother, Ruth Devlin, who's now 97 and lives in Sewickley. Ruth is in the back row, second from left, in the group photo of the women's tennis team at East Stroudsburg State Teachers College, circa 1946. The photo of two people is at Penn State with Ruth, left, and a friend, about 1947.
#goodness Courtesy of Gretchen Donaldson Gretchen Donaldson learned to be active from her mother, Ruth Devlin, who's now 97 and lives in Sewickley. Ruth is in the back row, second from left, in the group photo of the women's tennis team at East Stroudsburg State Teachers College, circa 1946. The photo of two people is at Penn State with Ruth, left, and a friend, about 1947.
#goodness Courtesy of Lana Lininger Lana Lininger's son, Mike, was born on Dec. 25, 1967 and is about 3 months old in this undated photo.  (Courtesy of Lana Lininger )
#goodness Courtesy of Lana Lininger Lana Lininger's son, Mike, was born on Dec. 25, 1967 and is seen in an undated family photo.  (Courtesy of Lana Lininger )
#goodness A Raff baseball game like Pete Peterson had when he was a boy as found on eBay.
#goodness This is the Clyde McPhatter stamp that Canonsburg's Beverly Imperatore used to mail her letter to goodness.
#goodness Courtesy of Beverly Hoffman Sheraden's Beverly Hoffman still has this maroon Christmas outfit her sister gave her in 1994, when she posed for this photo with her husband, Ray, and son Brocke.  (Jeffrey S Fannon)
#goodness Courtesy of Linda Dimitroff Linda Dimitroff shares this image -- a screen grab from an old home movie -- of her first time on skis as a teenager growing up on Brookline's Roswin Dr. -- "Mt. Roswin" as they called it.
#goodness Credit: Courtesy of Cathy Sikora Cathy Sikora still has a gown and jacket for her Midge doll that her Mom sewed for her in 1964.
#goodness Credit: Courtesy of Cathy Sikora Cathy Sikora still has a gown and jacket for her Midge doll that her Mom sewed for her in 1964.
#goodness Credit: Courtesy of Lynn Reid McCandless' Lynn Reid models one of the colorful wigs a friend gave her when chemotherapy for breast cancer made her lose her own hair.
Courtesy of Thomas Levenson Thomas Levenson of Upper St. Clair with his greatest gift -- his grandson, Thomas.
#goodness Credit: Courtesy of Jodi Hanczar 12-year-old Jodi Hanczar playing with her rod hockey game in her Perry Como Christmas sweater in 1967.
#goodness Credit: Courtesy of Vyvyanne Louise Crabtree Gilliland Vyvyanne Louise Crabtree Gilliland of Putnam County, W.Va., left, with her sister, Carole Veronica Crabtree Walker of Salt Lake City, Utah.
#goodness Courtesy of Chip Herrmann Rossyln Farms' Chip Herrmann says his best gift is his wife, Michale.
James Hilston/Post-Gazette
Advertisement
LATEST life
Advertisement
TOP
Email a Story