I didn't have a stocking as a child. I didn't have siblings, so what was under the tree was just one person's presents. I also lived with mum and grandparents from about 3yrs til 9yrs, so all my grandparents gifts (not that many) were under the tree for me as well. I got less than all my cousins, who all had siblings so "double toys" that they could nose through, and I always remember when all my cousins would descend on Boxing Day, each bringing a couple of much better toys and things than I had to show my grandparents what they'd got. Then they'd open their gifts from my grandparents. While I sat with nothing because I'd opened mine the day before, feeling left out as the only person not opening anything. Looking back I wonder why on earth they didn't wait and give me mine at the same time as everyone else, it made me feel really low, as they tore into things excitedly as a big group, and I wasn't part of that. I never really got excited at Christmas, because I'd have few presents and they were things I didn't want that my mother thought made her look more middle class. Didn't matter if I wanted a yapping dog toy or a neon bum bag. I'd get a book of learn to play classical piano tunes. We were middle to upper class I suppose, and the level of snobbery was shit.
It's hard to describe, it sounds all so trivial when trying to summarise, but feeling sad, then it being compounded by seeing every other child in the family being so excited and happy, is a feeling I will never forget. I hid it very well, and my mother would tell you what wonderful childhood Christmases I had. But I think there is an intrinsic link to presents and a young child's excitement and the magic of it all.
I think a small child should wake up on Christmas morning, and gasp when they see "he's been." My eldest always remembers the year I filled the living room with red, and gold balloons, and that was the "wow" moment as he ruched downstairs. There's only a few years they believe. And I think it's really important to create that magic, and the feeling it generates in that little person on Christmas morning.