Tom Weaver, owner, Eastport Yacht Co., Annapolis
We were living in Tanzania when I was four and went to visit my grandparents in Nairobi. Despite these exotic locales, my favorite gift was very American: a cowboy hat, little vest, chaps, holster, and lots of tassels. The gun, of course, was the best part of the outfit. My first target was my sister. Then I went after the imaginary Indians hiding in the bushes. I think the gift lasted two weeks before I destroyed it. The funny thing is, a few years later, I received a real air gun rifle and then a .22 and later a big boy’s gun, a .303. But after all these years, it’s the little toy gun that I remember with such joy.

Cynthia McBride, owner, McBride Gallery, Annapolis
I grew up on a farm in northern Minnesota. We were very poor. Every Christmas we received two gifts, a toy and a piece of clothing. My best memory is falling asleep to the sound of my mother’s treadle sewing machine, knowing she was making something for us to wear. When I was eight, she made me a pale blue dress with puffy sleeves and a gathered skirt. I wanted to show it off when we went to church the following Sunday. Usually, we kept our coats on throughout the service, because it was freezing. But on that Sunday, I took off my coat and showed off my beautiful dress—and my goose bumps.

Woodlief Oliver, musician, Easton, Md.
I got my favorite Christmas present in 1955 when I was five years old. I raced down the stairs, and there, next to the tree, was a X-1, silver and red spaceship. It was a two-seater made of cardboard that had a cheesy printed control panel with Tinkertoy-like levers. But I could get inside and fly through outer space. I still remember the absolute joy of commanding my X-1 across the universe. I would never know that joy again: It was the last Christmas that my younger brother was still in his cradle and not able to mess up my presents. I hadn’t even heard that horrible word share yet.

Ron Bowman, retired NASA project manager, Annapolis
My wife recently gave me the best Christmas gift, something I had wanted for a long time. Ten years ago, I did my first Ironman [race], in Hawaii. I wanted something to commemorate this accomplishment. I saw this beautiful gold ring with the Ironman emblem on it, but it was too expensive. Instead, I bought a tie tack. I retired this year and don’t wear ties anymore. Then, this past July, I completed my second Ironman, in Lake Placid, shaving 1.5 hours off my previous time. My wife took the tie tack to a jeweler, had him turn it into a ring, and gave it to me for Christmas.
Ann Coates, owner, Bishop’s Stock Fine Art and Craft, Snow Hill, Md.
The best Christmas gift I can remember had nothing to do with presents. Three years ago, my husband, son, and I decided we didn’t need anything. Our son, Bryan, was graduating from college, and we wanted to spend time together while we could. So we went on a family trip to New York for three days. The highlight was going to see Jersey Boys on Broadway. We had third-row seats right in front of Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban. Bryan even got to talk to them. He was thrilled. It was such a special night. We all realized having time with family is the best gift possible.

Lari Caldwell, social worker, East New Market, Md.
I desperately wanted a Tiny Tears doll when I was seven, because my mother refused to have another baby. My friend had a Tiny Tears; it drank from a bottle, cried, and even wet itself. It was the most wonderful doll in the world. But we were poor, and every time I asked for it, my mother would only say, “Maybe Santa will bring it to you.” Christmas morning, I opened my gifts. No doll. I thought maybe Santa had to give it to some other girl. Then my parents pulled out a huge box from behind the tree. I tore off the wrapping paper, and there she was. She even had a layette. All these years later, it is still my favorite gift. 
                   
Stewart Dobson, publisher, Ocean City Today, Ocean City, Md.
The year of the BB gun, the first bike, and the stocking full of bubble gum—which my capitalist, robber baron brother promptly sold by the piece—somehow seem fused into a single yuletide blur. But the one gift that stands out is a box of spaghetti by Chef Boyardee stuffed in my stocking, the great chef being a step up in the Italian cuisine of the pedestrian Franco-American. This gift stemmed from an early obsession with spaghetti, a small part of which involved disgusting my older sister by holding one end of a strand, swallowing the other and then pulling it back up. It was the gift that kept giving to a six-year-old.

Jeff Schaub, owner, Annapolis Marine Arts Gallery, Annapolis
When I was a kid, I loved anything that flew. I would often go on trips to Newark Airport with my family or with my Cub Scout troop. When I was seven, my parents got me my very own airplane that was made in post-war Japan. It was unbelievably intricate: hand-welded wires formed the wings and body and both were completely covered in brilliant blue silk thread. It was about twenty inches long and two feet wide. It didn’t fly very well, but I didn’t care. It was so beautiful and ephemeral. As I got older, I got into building balsa wood planes and then planes with engines that could really fly. But none of them meant more to me than that beautiful blue airplane. 
Marc Apter, associate vice president, marketing and public relations, St. Mary’s College of Maryland, St. Mary’s City, Md.
From the time I was born, my grandfather took me out on the water. When I was six, he blessed me with the most wonderful Christmas gift ever. I was sent to the garage and opened the door. There was my very own eight-foot Chris-Craft dingy. It was a total surprise. It was the Porsche of dinghies. It started me on my avocation of acquiring
little boats: Today I like to say I have 103 feet of yachts, seven in total, including a Hobie Cat, Zodiac, and a Laser.

Butch Arbin, captain, Ocean City Beach Patrol, Ocean City, Md.
Even as a child it was never about getting gifts for me; it was about giving. I am blessed that my children feel the same way. Nine years ago, when they were eleven and fifteen, we had a family meeting. We decided to take the money we would have used to buy gifts for ourselves and bought gifts for families living in a women’s shelter. My kids picked out the gifts themselves, wrapped them, and had their best Christmas handing them out. Watching the delight on their faces was the best gift I could have received.

Judy McDonald, Choptank Animal Hospital, Cambridge, Md.
It was the week before Christmas when our cat, Wolfie, went missing. My husband and I scoured the neighborhood and finally found someone who had seen some dogs attacking a cat three days earlier. We went to where the attack happened and found Wolfie hiding under the porch. We rushed him to the vet and brought him home four days later. One of the girls in my husband’s office made a Christmas ornament to commemorate his return: a big silver ball with paw prints, his name, and the year. Sadly, Wolfie died four years ago, but we still hang the ornament on the tree and think about our best Christmas gift ever, his miraculous return.

Jennie Merrill, teacher, Severna Park Elementary School, Severna Park, Md.
I would get one gift from my mother every Christmas, and it was always great. The most memorable one was when I was nine. It was a Person Power Vehicle (PPV). It literally looked like a paddleboat on wheels. I would pick up my best friend who’d sit upfront with me and pedal (it took two), and we’d put two more friends in the back. We’d pretend it was a car and feel, oh-so cool. We’d ‘drive’ all around town, pretty much stopping traffic when people saw it. The PPV lasted four years until it finally wore out and was too expensive to fix.

Samantha McCall, freelance writer, Easton, Md.
My boyfriend, Tom, and I were traveling around the world and were about a third of the way through our trip when we stopped in Bali. It was a week before Christmas in 1994, and Tom asked me where I saw our relationship going. Did I think I wanted to get married and have kids? I was very excited, but he dropped the whole conversation. Then on Christmas morning, while we were still snuggled in bed, he proposed. When I said, ‘Yes,’ he gave me a pair of beautiful amethyst and silver earrings [he wanted us to pick out the ring together]. That’s a hard gift to top.

Cheryl McCready, secretary, Advanced Projects Office, NASA, Wallops Island, Va.
Holidays are a time for family, especially Christmas. But as our sons have grown up and moved away, it gets harder to coordinate everyone’s schedule. Eight years ago, my boys and daughter-in-law made it home right before an ice storm hit and knocked out the electricity for three days. We all huddled around the wood-burning stove with our boys, taking turns chopping wood. I made chili on top of the wood stove for our Christmas dinner. We had a real old-fashioned Christmas with lots of laughter and conversation—all made possible by our secondary heating system. Who knew it would turn out to be the best gift we had ever given ourselves?

Stacie May, captain, Trader Joe’s, Annapolis
After nearly forty years, I still have a picture of my favorite gift: a two-foot-long Fisher Price plastic Noah’s ark. When you opened it up, it had lots of little compartments filled with pairs of animals. I’d play with them for hours. Years later, I was looking through my husband’s photo album and saw that he had the same toy. Five years ago, I bought a similar ark in a toy store, and put it away. We’re going to give it to our three-year-old and eighteen-month-old for Christmas. Hopefully, it will become a second-generation favorite gift.