(Editor’s note: James Villiers was 75 years old in 1997 when he penned the following Christmas story. See additional note at end to hear “the rest of the story.”)

By James Villiers

Toyland, toyland, little girl and boyland,

While you dwell within it you are ever happy there.

Childhood, joyland, mystic, merry toyland,

But once you pass its borders you can never return again.

These are some of the words to a song written by composer Mr. Victor Herbert for the operetta “Toyland.” The theme of the show was about the joy and wonders of that fleeting moment in everyone’s life: childhood.

The words to the song also state that once you leave that enchanted land of childhood you can never return again. Maybe so, but I think the following short story might prove otherwise.

My wife Florence and I usually visit the Bellevue Square here in Washington once or twice each month. While she shops or browses around the mall, I always stop at a wonderful toy store called F.O.A. Schwartz, located near one of the many entrances.

On one of my visits to this marvelous toy store, probably in October, I noticed a little boy about five or six years old playing with a big, red, remote-controlled fire engine.

He was in a world of his own as he worked the remote control. He would make the red fire engine go forward or backwards; he could raise and extend the ladder while rotating it in a complete circle. When he pushed another button on the control a spotlight came on and the siren would scream.

The little boy was oblivious to his surroundings. He was in that happy world of Mr. Victor Herbert’s song. He was in Toyland. When his mother approached and told the little boy they were leaving, he put down the control.

There was no one around but me. I picked up the control. As I pushed the control buttons, I immediately became mesmerized with this toy fire engine. I felt like that little boy: I became that little boy. This action went on for a number of weeks. My wife Florence would go shopping and I would go to the F.O.A. Schwartz toy store and wait my turn to use the big red fire engine.

Finally on December 23 I decided to buy the toy for myself. I liked the way I felt when I was playing with it, didn’t have a care in the world. Why not have this magical toy at home? Any time I was feeling blue, I could cheer myself up by playing with this wonderful toy.

When I asked the salesperson about buying the toy, I was informed that the last one was sold yesterday and they would not receive another shipment until sometime in February. By that time, I figured, I would have forgotten about it.

Christmas Eve came. About midnight my wife and I some of our grandchildren exchanged gifts. Florence must have been a mind reader or took my subtle hints that I would like someone to get me the new Barbra Streisand concert CD and also the Frank Sinatra Duet II CD. Everyone was pleased with the Christmas gifts and we all went to bed. I was happy with the CDs, but felt something was missing.

I’m a light sleeper. During the night I thought I heard strange sounds like a team of animals departing outside my bedroom window. I knew I was dreaming, but thought I distinctly heard someone say, “Away, Dancer!” Then a laugh like, “Ho, ho, ho!”

In the early morning I awoke and went downstairs intending to light the Christmas tree and listen to my new CDs. When I lit the tree there among the open presents was the big red fire engine.

Now no one can tell me there is no Santa Claus because Santa had visited my house that Christmas morning. This Santa Claus was a female named Florence. During our visits to the mall, unnoticed by me, my wife had been observing me in the Schwartz store taking my trips across the border to the enchanted land of childhood. She was the culprit who bought the last fire engine on December 22.

The warning label on the box the fire engine came in states, “For children four years old and over.” I qualify as I turned 75 before that Christmas. Yes, Mr. Victor Herbert, the words to your beautiful song will always remain with me, but somewhere along the line I found my way back into that wonderful land of childhood. Once you find your way back across that border, you will never grow old in your heart or spirit.

James Villiers is now 92 and counting….

It’s been 12 years since his Santa Claus was taken from him in December of 2002.

“Christmas is now a very lonely time for me,” James said.

“My grandchildren are no longer children, and the only child I know at Christmas time is myself.

“Each Christmas season I listen to the Victor Herbert operetta of ‘Toyland’ and I still believe I can cross the unforbidden borders into the enchanted land of my childhood.

“I also believe that one night as I fall asleep in my chair listening to my music, I will hear the clanging of the fire engine bells on my little red fire engine coming into the room being controlled by my Santa, Florence.

“She will say to me, ‘Jim, help me pull this fire engine and we will leave here together forever.’”