keepsakes

Decorating the tree is always a time of reflection for me. We do not have a "designer" tree! Nearly every ornament has a story.

The angel is from my parent's collection. My favorite Christmas carol was "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" and I loved this little tutu clad angel. (Now my favorite is "O Holy Night".)

My eldest sister gave me the egg manger scene when she was in college and I was a single digit! I loved everything she did for me. Not only did she give me really cool gifts, but she always wrote me letters. Can you imagine how special that made me feel? I am in awe that forty some years later, I still have this fragile treasure.

Someone close to our Dot nicknamed her "Peanut", so when we saw this little guy at a craft show, we added him to her ornament collection. I love that she lets us keep him and his brother. When Dot was taking care of Mother, we all learned that Mother's first husband called her "Peanut", too. That made these little guys even more dear!

When Dot was four, I was trying to tough it out in my miserable first marriage. We were so poor, it was stupid. Of course, he could drink every night. . . Anyway, we made these clothspin soldiers and angels to adorn our straggly tree. Remember, Dot and I both love a craft project, so it was a fun endeavor. I look at them with gratitude for how God has bountifully provided for us compared to those meager days.

The snowman and angel were made by Mother's industrious hands. The craft is called "rug hooking", kind of using fabric to "paint" a picture. Mother loved sewing and handling fabrics (see where Dot and I get it?), so this was a delight for her. She used to love telling me she had become the "Happy Hooker"! It was funny because she was a very moral and proper woman. I don't think I ever heard her say a cuss word.

The skinny Santa and Mrs. Santa were also from my parent's ornaments. I always loved them because both my parents were slender and they acted jovial about Christmas!

The beautiful cross is from my middle sister. She and I share in Catholic faith. As our priest said last week, Christmas is really more about welcoming Him everyday into our lives and rejoicing that one day, He will return. So we celebrate not only His birth, but the joy of His life in and around us.

One of my Dot's many talents is playing the piano. She also is a fabby ballet dancer, ballroom dancer, knits, sews, cooks and gives the best natural manicure in town. I stand at the tree and remember her recitals and the times she would bounce into my room, "Mommy, come here, I want to dance for you." Her beauty would make me cry.

Do you love the fishy hairdresser?!! And next to her, the paintbrush teddy bear? How thankful we have been for the simple service talents God gave us to provide for us and our family. Through our clients, our lives have been full of the kindest, smartest, most helpful people. Hard for Tim to have the door closed to his profession. He was one heck of a painter and hard worker. What he does today, he still does with all his heart. That's just who he is.

When we lived in Michigan (until I was 14), we had a oil furnace with the registers in the floor. Mother would set these angel chimes so that every time the furnace turned on, we would hear the sweet chimes.

Mother loved beautiful china, glassware, table linens. She just did not like to cook!! On some vacation, she found these Christmas dishes. Apparently they were quite costly. Always an at-home mom, she was extremely thrifty and respectful of my father's hard work as an accountant. So, she passed the dishes up. Daddy was forever telling her, "If you like it, just buy it because I don't want to hear you kicking yourself for months because you didn't!!" Like Tim, he was very generous. Seems Daddy bought them on the sly! It was a glorious production bringing these beauties to the table each year.

When the wrapping paper is tossed and the dishes are in the dishwasher, Christmas is about love. The love of the Father for His children and the love of His children for each other. And so, the dressing of our tree anchors my heart to that love.

Merry Christmas, dear blogger friends!