There was a very particular kind of excitement in opening a big Christmas toy catalog. You could start at the front, but really, you knew where you were going. Past the grown-up things. Straight to the toys.
Then came the important work: turning down corners, circling favorites, and deciding whether one circle was enough to communicate how seriously you felt about a particular present.
For many people who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s, those pages belong to the memory of Christmas itself. The book on the coffee table. A sibling leaning over your shoulder. A parent asking, “Which one would you play with the most?” The delicious possibility of the next page.
That is the feeling behind MyWishbook. We wanted to bring back the fun of discovering wishes together—and give a new generation a chance to make its own version of that family memory.
The big toy books we still remember
The Sears Wish Book and JCPenney Christmas catalogs helped make holiday browsing a household ritual. The Harvey County Historical Society describes children in the 1970s and 1980s studying the pages, folding corners, and circling items for parents and grandparents. Sears's first Christmas Book appeared in 1933; the tradition was already decades old by the time many of us encountered it.
You can read the museum's history of the holiday wish book for that historical background. Our own story starts with what we want families to experience now.
The anticipation was part of the present
A toy book gave a wish somewhere to live for a while. You could return to a page tomorrow. Show it to someone. Imagine the game you would invent or the world you would build.
You did not have to own everything in the book to enjoy it. Looking was an activity. Dreaming was an activity. Explaining a favorite to someone who cared about you was an activity, too.
That distinction matters when we recreate the tradition. A child can be wildly enthusiastic about a picture without an adult making a buying commitment. There is room for a big imagination and a small gift budget in the same family.
What we wanted to bring back
We wanted the big pictures, the page-turning, and the little chorus of “Look at this!” We wanted something a parent or grandparent could explore alongside a child, with room to pause and talk.
We also wanted the experience to lead somewhere beyond shopping: a story, a game, a letter to Santa, a simple activity together. The gift list can be the beginning of a holiday evening instead of the whole evening.
MyWishbook is an independent project inspired by the family ritual of holiday catalogs. We are not affiliated with Sears or JCPenney, and this is not a reproduction of their books.
Make a toy-book night of your own
You do not need matching pajamas or a tray that looks like a magazine cover. Choose a comfortable place, a little time, and one person willing to listen.
- Start with a memory. Ask a grown-up what they circled as a child. The toy they never received can be as interesting as the one they did.
- Open the Christmas Wishbook together. Browse a few pages before worrying about favorites.
- Ask about the fun behind the picture. “What would you make?” or “Who would you play with?” usually opens a better conversation than asking for a ranking.
- Choose a few wishes. Say warmly that wishes are ideas, and the grown-ups will decide what works.
- Add a wish that is time together. A baking afternoon, a park picnic, or a game night belongs on the list, too.
- Finish with something you already have. Read a story or play a familiar game. Let the evening deliver a little joy immediately.
For a fuller version, follow our cozy family wish-list-night guide.
Let the new memory be its own thing
Some families remember catalog Christmases fondly. Others are creating a tradition they never had. Both belong here.
There is no need to recreate an entire decade, find a vintage toy, or persuade children that the old days were better. Offer the part that still works: sitting close, turning a page, being curious about each other.
Years from now, the remembered gift might be a particular toy. It might also be the way Grandma laughed at a wish, the story Dad told, or the evening everyone stayed a little longer on the sofa.
Open the book. Pass it around. See what everyone circles.