This is a piece I repost every year around Christmas time. The holiday season is full of memories of gifts, gatherings, and glee. To that list of happy triggers I add one thing for me: 1. magic marker.
“No, no, no!”
Her reprimanding tone rang a bell. Behind me in the check-out line a young mother wrestled something from her toddler’s tight grip.
“No, no, no!” she repeated. The little boy grabbed a ball point pen from a display rack near the cash register. Swiftly removing the cap, he was about to demonstrate his unique brand of artwork across a stack of Washington Posts. He clenched his little fist when his mother tried to take the pen. I felt for him.
What child doesn’t like to draw?
I drew constantly as a child. Pens and pencils were my implements of choice but when I could sneak it away I’d use my sister’s fountain pen until it emptied. She always wondered why her ink ran out so quickly – and unless she reads this it will remain a decades-old secret. Of course I also had a box of Crayola crayons, 64 count with a built-in sharpener. I lived large. One thing I had never used, but craved greatly, was a magic marker. I didn’t have one, but Mama did.
I’d seen her use it once then toss it into something in the back of the high cabinet above the stove. I was too little then to know the secrets of that cabinet, but one day as Mama backed out of the driveway to go to the grocery store I seized the opportunity to learn. Home alone, I slid a kitchen chair to the stove, climbed up, and eased open the cabinet door. I saw spices, aspirin, glue, rubber bands, and a deck of playing cards. That was it. Disappointed, I started to close the cabinet and that’s when I saw it. There, from inside an old coffee mug, wedged between broken pencils and a pair of scissors it called to me. The magic marker!
My heart beat faster as I plucked the marker from the mug. I removed the cap, catching a whiff of that distinct (and what I considered beautiful) aroma. In slow motion I turned to hop from the chair, determined to be stealthy as I secretly drew with that marvelous thing. I’d return it to the mug when done. No one would know.
Except for Mama.
“No, no, no!” Mama said, coming in the back door with an armload of groceries. “You can’t use that. It’ll get everywhere and it will never wash off.”
Even when I drew with generic pens, pencils, and crayons Mama made it clear I was to sit at the kitchen table, draw only on the paper, and never get near the walls. No surprise that the notion of me with a magic marker made her nervous. I surrendered the marker to Mama, she returned it to the coffee mug, and I headed to my sister’s room to find solace in a fountain pen.
With Christmas right around the corner, my sisters and I started making lists for Santa Claus. I noticed their extensive lists included things like dolls, dresses, games, and make up. I wrote down one thing only.
- magic marker
Oh, everyone laughed, but to me it was serious. I had to know what it was like to draw with a magic marker. Pens and pencils were great, crayons were fun, and fountain pens were nice while the ink lasted, but I had to have a magic marker! Christmas seemed like it would never come.
But it did, and when that morning came, in my spot near the tree was the mountain of gifts Santa Claus generously left every year. As my sisters hugged new dolls and compared games and make up, I marveled at my remote control helicopter and a book about dinosaurs. To the left of a new pair of slippers was a small, plain box. There were no words or pictures to provide a clue, but as I lifted the lid that distinct and beautiful aroma gave away the contents. A brand new magic marker.
Merry Christmas to me!
I held the precious thing high in the air. I had to draw immediately! I ran to the kitchen table where I knew it was safe, grabbed my drawing pad and sat down. Mama, hot on my heels, pulled me and the entire kitchen table three feet from the wall. She instantly spread a layer of newspaper beneath my drawing pad, provided several wet paper towels, and reminded me that magic marker ink would never wash off. Daddy stood there grinning, amused by Mama’s panic. I think I know which half of Santa Claus was behind that particular gift. I happily drew as the distinct and beautiful aroma filled the kitchen.
For a kid who finally got his magic marker, it really was the most wonderful time of the year.
And Mama was incorrect. Magic marker ink will come off, it just takes rubbing alcohol and three good days of scrubbing. I know, because when she wasn’t looking that Christmas morning I scribbled a test patch across my knee.
Stuart M. Perkins
I love this story and the joys a simple magic marker can bring! Glad you were able to get the drawing of the test patch off your knee!
It wasn’t easy!
I enjoyed this special story. Thank you for reposting it this Christmas season.
And thank you for the comment!
Great story, and happy holidays! Your mom was lucky: my husband says he smeared poop on his bedroom walls when he was little, haha!! (Though I’d assume it does wash off more easily than magic marker.) Alisa
Well… art takes different forms!
And he actually grew up to be an artist!
I won’t ask using what media… lol!
My grandtwins did the same thing when they were babies! 😝
They are destined to be artists too!
🤢 not loving their medium! I certainly have enough art supplies for them to dabble if they choose!
lol…!
Haha!
I absolutely loved your story! I think it was very generous of your parents to let you have your heart’s desire as a young child!
Thanks! I do too, looking back. My mother’s panic about ink on the walls was real, lol.
This is just pure holiday magic! Even though growing up in South America, my childhood experiences were so different from yours, your ability to strike a chord never ceases to amaze me. Thank you, Stu!
Thanks Mariana!
lump in throat
Awww, thanks Joy!
Oh my goodness — love every morsel of this, Stuart…but I kept wondering –what color was your mama’s marker and what color did you receive? The marker of your dreams? And thanks for the hot tip about rubbing alcohol….I guess the rubbing and scrubbing on your poor knee was worth it to experiment. Just in case an emergency clean up might be needed! xo! 🥰
I think I scrubbed most of the flesh off of my then bony little knee! My mother’s was a giant El Marko marker, black. The one Santa left me was an El Marko but smaller… and orange! Looking back, I think it was a Santa “afterthought” and maybe something they had lying around since it was in an old necklace box, lol, not a brand new one. I didn’t realize it then though, and don’t care now! It was the thought – and the fact they knew what joy it would bring me at the time. And the memory still does at least 50 years later. Thanks as always for your comments and support!
Love all of your stories…keep ‘em coming, friend! This one was a delight! 🥰
Oh those Magic Markers. We did not have them, but my neighbor did. Sniff, sniff.
You never forget that smell!
Nope
Just as an aside, I told my own kids the same story about Sharpies and to never write on themselves as it was permanent. I had surgery once and the doctors marked me up with multi colors of Sharpie and my adult kids were mortified that I had permanent marks on me. The story continues for another generation.
Ha! I love that.
Some stories do deserve retellings. This is one of them! Lovely use of sensory imagery.
Thanks! I think of this whenever I smell a magic marker even today!
Haha! Good one, Stuart! Those were the days for sure!
Yes they were!
A wonderful story! I laughed at the part about your mom pulling you and the kitchen table away from the wall. And your story brought me back to the beautiful joy of drawing as a kid. For me, it was more about drawing with crayons. But your story also reminded me of the neato smell of magic markers. I can understand why you repost this story every year at the holidays 🙂
Thanks Dave! I probably laughed when she pulled the table from the wall too… violently and with me in a chair underneath! lol
I
I loved this story Stuart!
Hey there, thanks Julie!
Ah, what a charming and well-written remembrance. It would make an outstanding subplot for a Christmas movie. Go for it! And Merry Christmas.
That would be a Christmas miracle! But thank you for that and Merry Christmas to you too!
What a lovely memory! As a child of the 80’s, I got to play with washable magic markers, a whole pack of them! I don’t remember that they had much of a smell, but when I got to college and started using REAL artist markers- now those had a smell that could singe the hair in your nostrils. And now, when I open up a Sharpie, the scent takes me back to those promising and exciting days of school. 😃
Amazing the power scents have to bring back memories! Thanks for that fun comment!
I enjoyed it again.
Thanks Jim!
Awesome story, thank you.
Thanks Dominic!
Fun! I love your storytelling style! Have a blessed Christmas.
Thanks for that!
What a fun, charming story! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you!
Very welcome! 😊
I always love your gentle way of telling stories. Some of us remember those days when life was so much more simple.
Merry Christmas. KEEP WRITING.
Thank you for that. Those were definitely some good days…
Love it!
Thanks Janice!
Nice story…well-told
Thank you!
Delightful, as ever, Stuart. Thanks for the laugh! Happy Christmas to you – may your Christmas stocking carry a variety of magic markers! (Or whatever is on your wish list at this time 🙂 )
And thanks, as always, for your fun comments and constant encouragement!
What a wonderful Christmas story! Thank you for sharing!
Thanks Chandra!
Nice story!
Thanks Rowland!
I love this. I can feel for your mother and you! And your dad was funny! But I think both parents were in on getting you the marker. I don’t think your mother could have broken your heart, when “marker” was the only thing written on your list!
Probably true! I guess she prepped herself for the potential of having to repaint the kitchen walls… hahah!
A sweet precious story. But as a mother, I know full well the dread of those beautiful magic markers across the home landscape. But even I can’t help but smile at the thought my little Picasso was stretching his imagination. 🖊️
Exactly! My mother put away her fears of repainting the walls so that I could have a little fun!
Loving Mom’s are like that. 💙
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I bet it was your father who got you the craved marker, Stuart. Christmas is a great occasion when a child’s heart desire is satisfied. We do not celebrate Christmas traditionally, but we made it an opportunity to secretly get what my daughter wanted on the morning before the day came. I still recall the sparkles in her eyes when the stuffed sock was detected under her pillow first thing after she woke up. The first few years, she really believed that the white-bearded grandad came over to China to deliver her gifts!
I love that! And I know you loved seeing her excitement. Thanks again for the fun comments and constant encouragement!
A well-told story, Stuart! Isn’t it funny how our hearts can get set on even a small, rather inexpensive item? You brought to mind an experience from my own childhood. My heart was set on Venus colored pencils. There was nothing better for drawing clothes for my paper dolls, a favorite hobby. Every time I accumulated a bit of change, I’d buy another color out of the open-stock display at a nearby bookstore. And no sooner did I own that one, I’d be planning which color I needed next!
That’s a great memory and I can understand your excitement! I mean, who would have though an El-Marko magic marker could have been my one and only dream… Thanks for that comment!
It’s amazing how markers and crayons are perfect gifts for young kids. I really enjoyed your story.
Thanks Julia!
Yep….i can smell that marker! What memories.
Thanks Julie!
HA! Great recount of your childhood. It seems that everything magical, in a child’s life, takes place at Christmas. My youngest son found one of my permanent markers and left some artwork along the hallway. I let it stay for a few days, he was pleased.
Good for you for letting his exhibit stay up a while! lol. Thanks for the fun comment…
Wow, I love this. I’m so glad I happened upon it. The present was truly magical!
~Nan
Thanks Nan!
I don’t know how I happened across this blog, but I fully enjoyed this story. Thanks for the great memory (and the nostalgic smell)!
You’re welcome! Thanks for that!
My 12 year old granddaughter loves to use Sharpies to draw Henna-like markings all over her arms and hands. She has discovered that hand sanitizer will remove the markings, so she does it over and over, using her skin like a whiteboard! My daughter has told her it’s not good for her skin, but I guess when she tires of ths phase she will stop!!
That’s good old-fashioned artistic expression, lol! My mother probably would have fainted if she had ever seen me enter the room with a Sharpie… Thanks for that comment!
Oh, what a wonderful memory 💞💞💞
Thanks Dawn!
A lovely story. Sometimes the best child’s toys are the simplest ones.
I agree. Thanks Kevin!
that is a sweet story! Thank you!
Thanks for that!
Loved your ending to the story. Perfect.
Thanks Melodie!
Simple pleasures…
Definitely!
That is the best feeling! Getting that one thing you wanted for Christmas! For me it was the movie Wayne’s world one year as a teenager. I still remember the excitement
Haha! I love that!
What an enjoyable and edge of my seat read!.a great “Christmas Story”.
Thanks Robert!
Sweet. Thanks for sharing this story. Kids find magic …
Thanks Dom!
I loved reading this story! It made me so happy when you finally got your magic marker!
Thanks Heather!
Great story, great ending 👌
Thanks Ana!
Love it! Oh the treasure of childhood when small and intriguing gifts bring us such joy!
Definitely! And thanks for the comment!
A great story and told with humor. Thanks for liking my blog post, Quiet or Chaos. on Metamoments.
Thanks!