When I was young, our family opened up our Christmas presents in two phases. My parents would humor us by allowing us to open a gift or two before they had their first cup of coffee, we’d take a break to eat, and then resume the present-opening.

I remember the year I had my first lesson in “Thou shall not covet.” I was an early teen and my brother (18 months younger) opened up a present that turned out to be something I desperately wanted: a clock radio. (Equate my yearning with pining after an IPod in today’s world.) The only problem it was HIS present and HIS clock radio. I remember blinking back sudden tears of disappointment as we moved (I trudged, he danced) into the kitchen for breakfast.

After downing the Christmas breakfast casserole, we returned to the remaining pile under the tree. Since it was my turn to open, I was handed a present. Given my funk, I did not notice it was was similar in look and size as a previous present. To this day I recall how my heart leaped when, after ripping off the wrapping, I saw that I, too, had received a clock radio, the identical model

I loved that clock radio for many first years. It was the first time I had the ability to listen to music into my room, a sure sign that I was older. My girlfriend and I used to listen to it as we traded stories about the latest teen-world drama, also keeping an ear out for the radio contest on our favorite station. We’d hear the special, call-in song, dash into a nearby room and dial the 1-800 number frantically trying to be the 20th caller to win the free concert tickets or other prizes. (Because, of course, teens didn’t have phones in our bedrooms in those days.)

Clearly, that was a “home run gift” when, 30+ years later, I can still wax eloquently on about my beloved clock radio.

When have you hit a home run with a gift you’ve given or received?