Grand City, our local “Five & Dime,” has changed only slightly since the ’50s. And it certainly hasn’t changed at all since the day 15 years ago when my 10-year-old daughter, Shannon set out on her first solo holiday shopping expedition there.

On that winter afternoon in 1991, I helped Shannon find her bearings in the bustling department store before sitting down on a red leather booth in the luncheonette to wait for her.

As I sipped my tea and worked on my cross-stitch project, I looked up from time to time to see the top of my daughter’s blonde head as she flitted through the store.

I noticed she was spending an inordinate amount of time at the perfume counter and looked the other way when she made a purchase in the jewelry department.

As I poured more hot water into my mug, I realized I wasn’t making much progress on my little craft project. Instead, I was delighting in observing my confident little girl.

I watched her ask for help from a men’s department clerk in the choosing of white handkerchiefs for her dad.

Then, with the hankies and a box of his favorite chocolate-covered cherries under her arm, she disappeared from sight, but only momentarily.

She returned into my field of vision, carrying a blue shopping basket and stopped in the middle of the aisle to check her list. We had discussed her gift ideas for her sisters on the drive into town. Socks and baseball cards, watercolors and paper, bright bandannas, 1,000-piece puzzles, and barrettes.

For weeks, she had carefully and intentionally saved her money so she could be part of the family’s gift exchange. We had talked about how she would wrap the presents herself and put them under the tree on Christmas Eve.

Within an hour or so, Shannon stood in line at the check-out with a full basket. I did my best to avert my eyes as she carefully handed over each item.

She took a bulging red coin purse out of the pocket of her corduroy coat, spilled the money out onto the counter and smoothed out the creased dollar bills.

As the patient cashier totaled up her purchases, Shannon made small stacks of nickels, quarters and dimes. She relinquished the flattened dollar bills, then looked over her shoulder at me, grinning broadly. I waved and smiled back, then asked a waitress for two menus.

With her blue eyes as twinkly as any Christmas elf’s, Shannon joined me at the table and presented me with a white chocolate Lindt truffle, a favorite treat of mine. I unwrapped and ate it immediately.

My daughter had had a high old time for herself and was obviously feeling very grown-up, but quite famished. She chose her favorite “Golden Cheese Dream” – Grand City’s version of a grilled cheese sandwich and fries, accompanied by a chocolate shake.

When the milkshake arrived, Shannon slurped it through the straw with gusto as she talked a blue streak, as she was always prone to do.

On Christmas morning, my youngest daughter presented me with a small package containing a bottle of toilette water decorated with a plastic dove stopper and a gold wreath pin.

Many Christmases have come and gone since then, but the perfume bottle that still sits on my bureau and the gold wreath I pin to the collar of my wool coat every December continue to touch my heart.

As for Shannon, she’s all grown-up now, with a daughter of her own. Our family has grown, expanded, thrived and changed, while Grand City, amazingly enough, has remained almost exactly the same.

In fact, I have a date to go Christmas shopping and have lunch with Shannon and her baby daughter, Lucy, at the old “Five & Dime.” When we walk though the doors of Grand City, we’ll step into the past, yet also into the future.

We’ll be introducing a new family member to a special holiday tradition, and at the same time, we’ll recapture one of our favorite family memories.

Karen Schneider is a freelance writer living in West Bath. She may be reached by e-mail at [email protected].