Our Christmas decorations reflect the different facets, the different times of our lives. There are ornaments that hung on our parents’ trees as long as 75 years ago. There are tiny musical instruments. A pewter rocking horse bunny. Another angelic bunny using a carrot as a herald’s trumpet. Samoyeds in various poses.
Pictures and mementos of friends, family, pets, some no longer with us, some still alive. Handprints. Wooden beads.
A snowman, Santa, and a rocking horse hand-carved by my mother-in-law.
A Lionel train set bought used for me some of the components of which are at least 70 years old and which has been reconditioned (a Christmas present from my wife decades ago) so it still runs.
The base of our tree is wrapped in handmade quilts that were rags a half century ago and which were used by an antique dealer (the grandson of the man who guided Francis Parkman on the Oregon Trail) to pad the furniture my mom bought. Who knows how old they are? Or who made them?
Things we’ve bought for each other. Things we’ve bought together.
A treeful of memories.