where the writers are
Holy Tinsel - The Gift of Memory
tree.jpg

HOLY TINSEL  -  The Gift of Memory

 It was idyllic. The tracks were shiny and the landscape perfection. A covered bridge led to a town where there was the close encounter of “if onlys.” If only I was small enough to walk around this miniscule creation and experience the contentment of the fixed gazes and smiles of the little people figurines. This was my promised land of Christmas morning. Despite the fact that I was never able to wish myself small enough to enter the elaborate train display, my Father permitted my Sisters and me to take over the controls and engineer the direction and timing of our prized Lionel locomotives. He had no gender bias in encouraging our interest and appreciation of our annual Holiday presentation. This was a ritual to be enjoyed.

The family Christmas tree demanded careful execution of decoration. At a young age I don’t remember anyone referring to an artificial tree. My  Mother said that my childhood was before the inception of deception  with regard to Christmas trees. The real deal always graced our living room. Allergies be damned! You were not sneezing or coughing from evergreen sap. You just had a cold. And when it came time to transition from tinsel to garland on our Christmas tree, my Father had a couple difficult Holiday seasons. It wasn’t easy to let go of his tinsel addiction. He was never one to let his family just throw tinsel randomly on the tree. He insisted that one strand at a time presented the right effect to family, friends, and neighbors. It was our serious collaboration to bring joy to the world through “creative disciplined imagery.” Honestly,  that is how he explained and focused on the tree trimming.

But one of my favorite gifts of Christmas memory is one that  I remember and treasure every year. It was a personal visit from the jolly man himself. I was approximately 4 or 5 years old and lying in my bed in anticipation of the morning to come. Lo and behold and very quietly, Santa Claus looked down over me and gave me a huge smile. It was a peaceful and happy moment with absolutely no fear. Over the years this memory resurfaced, but I kept quiet about it The best description and reasoning (I guess) behind this explanation is that  I enjoyed keeping a secret with such a privileged celebrity as Santa Claus. However, the best part about this gift came years later when I complimented my Parents on what I considered  a great idea in the art of  convincing and reinforcing my belief in Santa. They looked at each with astonished disbelief. They swore that they had no connections to my occurrence with Santa Claus….And that is why I believe !

Keywords:
Comments
4 Comment count
Comment Bubble Tip

“creative disciplined imagery”

Yes, I still put icycles on the tree sometimes--not this year. And they must be put on straight--not thrown--just like Daddy taught me.

Comment Bubble Tip

Tinsel lovers unite!

I am so happy that in some ways we have traveled the same road!

Someday our children or grandchildren will be blogging about us and questioning   why in the world would we have decorated a tree when the image of an elaborate one can be projected to the massive dimension flat screen in the living room. No muss ...No fuss!

Sorry that they will miss the fun!

Have a great day!

Mary aka Pat

Comment Bubble Tip

Miracles of Christmas

Dear Mary - what wonderful memories you brought back to me. My father, too, put the tinsel (we called it "rain" living in Oregon - truth)on one strand at a time. My childhood was, of course, before the inception of deception, and it brings me back to simpler times that I cherish. I just wish Santa Claus had smiled down on me as he did you - BELIEF is the miracle of Christmas, after all. May your Christmas be merry & bright!

Comment Bubble Tip

Thank you, Lynn!

It really means so much to have you comment and understand my memories of Christmas.

I hope that you had a wonderful Christmas and the very best in the new year!

Mary Walsh