What's the worst gift you've ever received?

The gymnasium is abnormally silent as the elementary school students file in one after the other. Nevertheless, the dynamic anticipation in the room is impossible to neglect as the children plop themselves onto the floor. Once everyone is comfortably seated, the principal glides to the front of the room, a man in an exquisite black suit following closely behind. “Good afternoon, everyone,” The principle greets. “I’d like you to welcome our guest. He’s an Olympic organizer, and he’s here to share some glorious news with you all.” The crowd claps and hollers in excitement. “Hello, everyone ” he begins. Nods and agreements fly in from every corner. “A student from this school has been selected for the torch lighting!” he exclaims. The room is alive with excitement as they chatter, contrasting hugely with the previous silence. “The stories we received from this school were lovely. But Lisa R, yours was really quite inspiring. You’ll be joining nine other children to light the torch! Come on up here and share your story!” he announces. A short girl with short brown pigtails hobbles onto the stage with an artificial leg, and an enormous smile. “I used to figure skate. When I was seven, at practice, another girl and I collided. Her skates, being really sharp, cut my leg so it was almost split in half. I had to have it amputated. I really miss being a figure skater!” she told. The Olympic organizer hands her her VIP pass to the torch lighting.

To be honest with you, it would have to be a Barbie doll. My friend gave it to me for Christmas, and it was very embarrassing. It had blond hair and a dress on that really disturbed me! I thought it was very funny, but on the other hand, I did not receive anything I really thought would be cool! It was a funny gift and the worst gift I have ever received, unless it it a hug from my mom!

Decorations. A big colorful tree that we had to painstakingly set up and took down. A huge buffet with food that will end up being leftovers in days to come. Christmas carols playing long before Christmas begins and ends.

So much Christmas memories, yet the one thing I can never remember is opening presents, unlike many people; I really don't know why. What I won't forget anytime soon is when I got socks and underwear for Christmas last year. Socks and underwear? Couldn't they think of any other present? Sure, I get new clothes each year, but why must I get stuff that no one would want to see me in? Oh, and they were boxers and tube socks, of all things.

Growing up, I began writing my Christmas wish list as early as September, editing it every so often to make sure each gift I desired was laid out clearly. At the age of seven, however, my list consisted of only one coveted item; A rare, limited edition Christmas beanie baby. At my young age, beanie babies seemed more important to me than anything. I collected them, placed them in individual hard plastic viewing boxes and made sure they remained untouched and unscathed. As the x's on my calender slowly approached the 25th of December, I became more and more anxious. On Christmas eve, I noticed a small box underneath the tree, the perfect size for a beanie baby. I retired to my room early that night, elated, having already made space for the beanie baby that I anticipated to open the next morning. When Christmas day finally arrived, I jumped down the stairs and skipped towards the Christmas tree that stood in our living room. Imaptiently, I called for my family to join me. When they eventually lazily strolled into the room, I ripped the red and green gift wrap open, with an ear to ear grin, only to find a wrist-watch hidden beneath the paper. A wrist-watch! I awkwardly said my thank-yous and merry christmas's, but felt unsatisfied. My seven-year-old heart was torn. It seemed that the sad space on my shelf would remain empty for another year.

Every year, Christmas day, I would wake up at six am with anticipation filling my eyes, my fingers tingling, and my breath quickening. Not this year. Without my twin sister, Ashlee, a piece of my life has been missing. Dealing with her death has been distressing. My heart feels as though it has been ripped out of my chest. Now, on Christmas day, my excitement is hidden away inside of me not wanting to come out.
I slowly sauntered towards the living room, where my parents awkwardly awaited around the Christmas tree, and announced that present opening could begin. Tears drizzled down my face as I received each gift, realising I will never share another Christmas with Ashlee again. As we opened gifts, thundering silence filled the room, bouncing off the walls, and spiraling through our ears.
My eyes shifted towards our Christmas tree and spotted one lonely present huddled close to the trunk. I averted my gaze over to my parents, who beckoned my to grab the last present. I quickly picked it up, plopped it on my lap then continued on to opening it. I gingerly tore the wrapping paper off of the present and my eyes widened in shock as I stared into the box. Inside lay a pair of track spikes, my sisters favourite sport, with the name ASHLEE, engraved in them.

I was waiting for christmas on the 21st of December, when I noticed my dog Bandit wasn't here. I decided to go look upstairs, but couldn't find him. He came through the front door and dropped a slobbery ball and pushed it toward me with his head. I thought he wanted me to throw it, so I did. He went after the ball and gave it to me again, but this time he went to the living room for a nap.

Gilbert Packo

For most people, the worst gifts they receive can be stuffed under a bed, shoved in a deep closet, or conveniently dropped in the garbage can. Unfortunately, I do not have this luxury; the worst gift I ever received will continue to plague me for many years.
When I first started to beg my parents for a leopard gecko at the age of nine, I simply could not perceive the huge responsibility of owning a pet that has a lifespan of fifteen years in captivity. But with beady eyes filling my dreams, I persisted in expressing that I simply could not go on without one. I explained to my parents that a gecko would fit perfectly into my requirements of a tenth birthday present: expensive, amusing, and awe inspiring to my friends.
Finally my most heartfelt dream materialized into reality. Waiting for me on the day of my birthday was a tank which housed a beautiful juvenile leopard gecko with a long, healthy looking tail and vibrant skin that displayed a magnificent array of green and black.
But as my grade five year wore on, I realized that owning a lizard is a formidable task. His food— live crickets—made a lively racket each and every night. His infrared heat lamp filled my room with an eerie red glow 24/7 and his water dish seemed to be eternally empty.
Six years later, I still suffer from the naiveté of my nine year- old obsession with reptiles, with no end in sight.

Each Christmas the dreaded box, probably clothes, waited for me; however, my worst gift had nothing to do with clothes at all.

On Christmas Eve as all of my relatives waited for the arrival of the gigantic, carved turkey, I waited anxiously for the arrival of Santa, who would quietly leave a special gift for my cousins and me at the front door when nobody was watching. I always cherished opening up a gift from Santa, for he was the only one who ever brought exactly what I was wishing for.

The year I had just turned 6, I spent months hoping for something thrilling and unique that Christmas. Unfortunately, the pile of clothes sitting next to me proved that this had yet to happen. So when our presents finally arrived at the front door, I made sure that I got there first. I immediately checked the tag of the largest gift I saw, which sadly didn’t have my name on it. When only one gift sat unclaimed, I stared at the small, childish, plastic drum. The expression on my face had an uncanny resemblance to Ralphie’s after opening the pink bunny slippers from his aunt. I felt so let down by Santa.

I still have that drum, and it serves as a comical reminder of that disappointing Christmas Eve. As much as I hated that gift, I now realize that some of the worst moments can become the best memories.

I remember one faithful Christmas of my childhood. Typically, the sounds of Christmas carols playing on the radio, and the bustling noises of frantic holiday preparations filled the air during this time. My family would decorate the plastic tree together with our generic annual decorations, presents lying in abundance underneath it. However, I remember clearly that one particular year, the supposed cheerful atmosphere was replaced with silence. Cold, dreadful, deafening, silence. The warmth families should be spreading at Christmas was fully extinguished, with only the coldness of my own family glazing over each of our hearts. Each person had their pride on their foreheads, unable to take it down and get past it. Christmas crept by slowly, as if it was an old, forgotten friend visiting.

That's the worst gift to have on the holidays.
Silence.

-Michelle Liao, ACRSS

I know Christmas is about giving not receiving but when people abuse that, everything changes. Last Christmas I was fourteen,which makes me a teenager. This means goodbye Barbie Dolls and hello money! I have this Aunt who seems to treat me like I am a little girl. I'm always prepared for her presents because quite frankly, they are never that exciting. I'm sorry Auntie but clothing from the children's section in GAP just doesn't cut it. This Christmas though I was shocked! Not only did I get a familiar looking present that I happen to get every year, there was another mini box tied along with it. This is where my eyes lights lit up. I may be old enough to know the real Santa, but I still get ecstatic when I get an unknown gift. A million thoughts jumped into my mind. Maybe she listened to me this year! Score! It's finally my turn to open my presents. I tore the beautifully wrapped box to shreds and what do I find? A puzzle, and guess what? I hate puzzles! Oh, but not only was it a puzzle, it had a collage of cats on it. I despise cats. It was a double whammy of two things I absolutely hated! My Aunt looked at me and said, “Do you like your present?” Luckily I am good at fake smiles.