Christmas 2006.

If I tried, I probably could remember something special about every Christmas of my life. And that's getting to be quite a few.

There was the year I received my "Suzie" doll, which today remains tucked away in the cedar chest of our home. One of the early "interactive" dolls, Suzie had moveable eyelids that closed when I laid her down to sleep.

And there was the Christmas I didn't get a Barbie doll. It was 1959, and Barbie had made her debut at a toy show earlier that year. Instead, Santa brought me a full-figured alternative, a tightly curled brunette that probably was a fraction of the cost of a Barbie.

And the year when, listening through the metal floor register of my childhood home, I learned about the real Santa Claus.

One memory that remains vivid even today is the December my father was laid off from work. It was 1961, and I was 11 years old. Although I don't remember talk of the recession or a depressed economy, I do remember my mother's angry reaction when I told her how happy I was that Dad didn't have to work during the holidays. At the time, I didn't understand her response, but the tired, worn look on her face is something I'll never forget.

The challenge of making a memorable Christmas for her family — 12 children, ages 1 through 18 — must have weighed heavily on them. Always conservative in their gift giving and ingenious in their use of money, my parents must have struggled more than usual that Christmas to fill their children's wish lists.

Mother made dresses for my sister and me, and Dad built a barn from the scrap wood in his workshop for my younger brothers. But the present that helped me understand how tough times must have been was when one of my older brothers unwrapped a tube of toothpaste.

Accustomed to brushing with baking soda, we children were delighted with a tube of "real" toothpaste. But that gift helped me appreciate how much my parents worked to brighten our Christmas mornings.

Like many parents, my husband and I have had to struggle at times to make our Christmas mornings memorable. When the children were younger and I was at home with them, my husband was laid off from work twice in a year. Shortly after that, he had health problems that kept him out of the work force for several years, and we had to learn to cut corners in ways reminiscent of my own parents' struggle to make ends meet.

The presents under our Christmas trees reflected the changes in our lives, as we learned to be more creative and ingenious in our gift giving.

Today, with the children mostly grown and both of us working again, it is easier. In retrospect, though, those leaner years helped me regain an appreciation for the reasons behind holiday gift giving that years of prosperity had diminished.

And, more importantly, I found a resourcefulness buried inside that made me appreciate my own ability to deal with adversity.

Linda K. Schmitmeyer is a freelance writer living in Middlesex Township. Her e-mail address is lks260@zoominternet.net.