Return to the Enchanted Forest

       Like most men, I hate to shop. In fact, if I'm ever convicted of a hideous crime and the judge really wants to punish me, she will sentence me to 10 years of hard shopping in a suburban mall.

       Given that chronic aversion, for many years I was a regular Ebenezer Scrooge during the Christmas season. I would fight and jostle my way through the mall. And every minute I spent shopping and standing in long lines, my blood pressure would rise. Peace on earth and good will toward men? Not when you're dashing through the mall pushing a one-horse open shopping cart.

       But I didn't always feel that way about shopping. There was a time in my life when the only thing more exciting than Christmas Day was the day I went Christmas shopping. That was 50 years ago, when my Momma and I went Christmas shopping on Saturday in downtown Memphis and visited a magical place called "The Enchanted Forest."

       It was magic back then. We would get into Momma's 1956 Ford Fairlane and drive to Front Street, where we would park in the Goldsmith's Department Store parking garage. We would then walk through a tunnel below Front Street that connected the parking garage to the department store. As a little boy, I absolutely loved that tunnel. It was an exciting journey to an enchanted land that featured the Enchanted Forest.

       It was sort of a poor man's Disney World, full of robotic elves and reindeer and even polar bears in a magical forest. An enchanted forest, in fact. Momma and I would spend the morning shopping at Goldsmith's or Lowenstein's or Gerber's. Each department store featured giant window displays on Main Street. I particularly liked Lowenstein's because the star of its display window was Mr. Bingle, a giant snowman. I adored Mr. Bingle. I even had a Mr. Bingle doll.

       Our Christmas shopping trip would also include a visit with Santa at his big workshop in Court Square. He was the real Santa, too, not some impersonator like you find these days at a suburban mall. Seeing him was a miracle on Court Square.

       After a morning of shopping, we'd have lunch either at Momma's favorite place, the Gerber's Tea Room, or mine, the Krystal on Second Street. Krystal hamburgers cost 6 cents apiece in those days, and I would eat five of them, setting Momma back 35 cents, counting the nickel for a Coke.

       In the afternoon, we'd take in a movie at the Strand, the Warner or Loew's Palace, which is now the site of a garage called Parking Can Be Fun, a name that would have shocked Momma.

       Last Saturday, I decided to give Christmas shopping one more try. I wished I could shop with my Momma again, but she's in heaven now, so instead I went shopping with a princess, my daughter.

       We didn't go downtown. The old Goldsmith's parking garage is now the site of the AutoZone corporate headquarters. Goldsmith's has been bought by Macy's and moved several miles out east. Gerber's Tea Room was boarded up years ago, and Mr. Bingle has apparently retired, although I still have my Mr. Bingle doll.

       Instead, the Princess and I visited the Enchanted Forest at the Memphis Pink Palace Museum, where we partied like it was 1959. After a delightful hour there, we visited several stores in East Memphis, a few of which, heaven help me, were located in the Chickasaw Oaks mall.

       We had lunch at Krystal, where the hamburgers cost a little more than 6 cents each but are still pretty cheap. And they taste just as good as they did in 1956.

       The Princess loved every minute of our outing. And yes, she was enchanted. And to my surprise, something amazing happened. I enjoyed it as well. We could have been stars in a movie called Miracle at the East Memphis Shopping Mall or Return to the Enchanted Forest.

       I tried to figure out what happened. How was I transformed on one Saturday morning from Ebenezer Scrooge to Bob Cratchit? The answer is simple. The Princess and I were having the same experience my mom and I shared a half-century ago.

       And so this Christmas, Ebenezer Daddy is not going to spend his time with the Ghost of Christmas Past. I'm still going to treasure the memories of Christmas shopping with my Momma. But thanks to the Princess, I have rediscovered the joy and enchantment of Christmas present.