Hello friends,
The plastic shoebox with the white lid held memories in the closet, waiting. Waiting for me to see the beauty encased in each glass ornament.
The tissue paper armored the fragile decorations and kept what I had forgotten out of harm’s way. But a nagging feeling pulled me toward the closet, the box, the objects, the memories of Christmases past.
My Mother loved Christmas. Every year, she painstakingly decked our home with holiday spirit as the collection of ornaments, angels, Santas, and glass trees grew with each passing year.
She always let me help, but when she entrusted those sparkling, delicate objects to my small hands, I felt ten feet tall—a person who could be trusted. I marveled at the intricacy of the delicate shapes.
“Make sure to secure the hook on the branch before letting go,” Mother advised.
I followed her instructions, breathing in the piney odor of the tree—that smell. I don’t know what enthralled me more, the glistening ornaments, bright colored lights, the icicles dancing reflections, or the fragrance of nature transported into our living room.
I released the memories, placed the seventy-plus-year-old orbs in a crystal bowl, and set them on my coffee table. A fitting place, I thought, to honor their craftsmanship. Yet, bringing my treasures into my living room did more.
They gave back to me the sweetest memories of my Mother, her long slender fingers with nails always, always painted red, her love of the holiday, and her faith and trust in me. Oh, how I do love Christmas!
Now, my decorating is complete. The best is yet to come—baking cookies, including some of her favorite recipes I have passed on to my children and grandchildren.
Don’t forget the gifts, some requested, others that shouted each person’s name finding their spot under the tree wrapped and tied with glittery ribbon. All those presents, large or small, remind us of how much we cherish each recipient—those we care about the most.
Each pass by the crystal bowl makes me smile. I make new memories.
If the hustle and bustle of the season has left you frazzled, silence can calm the soul and restore bliss. Try it.
Looking for inspiration? An entertainment icon, Norman Lear who passed away this week, shares his wisdom on living a life of meaning.
Christmas songs my Mother loved, and I do, too: White Christmas, O Holy Night, and a few more from the 50s, 60s, and 70s.
"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime."
— Laura Ingalls Wilder
"My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?"
— Bob Hope
Find a little wonder this week, and as you celebrate your traditions this season, find hope, joy, and peace.
With gratitude,
Kathryn
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