I'm sure somewhere in your childhood you remember making all sorts of crafts in school. My first--one my mom kept forever--was a tiny hand print in plaster from kindergarten. Then there were the special cards for mother's day and father's day, the Easter basket made of construction paper with shredded crepe for grass, the turkey with colorful feathers--mine had an abnormally shaped beak--and of course the Christmas ornaments, using glitter and glue, crayons and markers, bright paper colors of red, blue, green, and many others.
It's nice that tradition has carried on through generations. My children made plenty of those school crafts, and like my mom, I've kept quite a few of them. Of course, projects have become a bit more sophisticated. Ceramic pottery replaced paper constructions in many cases. But those ornaments for the tree, those were the best. Some had their photos attached, along with the year--a chronology of their lives of sorts. Ornaments made in various shapes, globe shapes, candy cane shapes, tree shapes, all kinds of shapes! But the best part were the proud smiles on their faces as they rushed off the bus, how they jumped up and down, squealing with excitement, while they pulled their treasures out their book bags and hung them on the tree.
It's probably overdone, said too often, but it's true. These homemade trinkets are the most precious sentiment one can give and receive. They bring the holiday spirit closer to what it should be. So, lose the commercial fanfare, the insane, over-the-top frenzy and greed of who can out-spend, out-decorate everyone else.
Remember those sweet smiles, the sheer joy on their faces, the spirit in their eyes and those precious homemade gifts. Those are the best.
Merry Christmas!
It's common during the holidays to recall memories of the past. Both happy ones and sad. It's true. But we try to keep the happy ones close, the ones that give us pleasure and hopes for Christmases to come. We may dig through photos, watch family videos, or share stories during family gatherings. So, today I'm sharing one of those.
It was 1955 or maybe '56. I have a photo. A young girl of four or five leaning forward, hugging her rocking horse with eyes closed. She'd fallen asleep, refusing to end the magic of Christmas Eve and this special ride, even though her parents had tried to coax her to bed. The horse would be here in the morning, waiting for her, they reasoned. The girl, her eyes wide and wet with tears, cried. So, they left her to rock on that horse until she fell asleep, then carried her off to bed.
This was such a long time ago, and my memory has faded like many have. Yet I wonder what had been in that young girl's mind. Was it just the ride that gave her joy? Or was there more? The magic of Christmas still lived in her heart. Santa on his sleigh, delivering presents to girls and boys; a plate of cookies and milk left to say thank you, which she found empty next morning; the tree smelling of pine with its twinkling lights and sparkling with tinsel sitting near the window; the joyful sound of caroles; warm cookies out of the oven lathered with icing and covered with green and red sprinkles; smiles and laughter of family and friends gathering to celebrate... All those and more. Did she think of those things while she rocked on her horse? Was it part of the magic? I'd like to believe she thought this. I'd like to believe magic lives inside all children. And maybe, just maybe it can live inside everyone, young and old.
Here's to the joy! Until tomorrow...
You know, I am the supreme master of procrastination. Ask anyone who knows me. It's no secret, and I don't claim that lightly. Add my dorky behavior and undying curiosity to the mix, and you get a typical day like this ....
3:00 pm: I wanted to continue my work in progress this afternoon. That was the plan. It's a mystery and just so happens to involve a secret code. I LOVE secret codes. (Insert matching character detail -- quirky, dorky, or anything synonymous.) So, I was about to write when a thought came to me. I remember I had a book as a kid called Codes & Secret Writing (see photo). I bought it through our class Scholastic book program. Oh, how I loved those fliers! Full of wonderful books, I wanted to buy them all. My parents had other ideas. Anyway, I thought about that book. It was such a fun book. I'd spend hours using those codes to write secret messages. (Yes, I know. Dork.) I decided about then to go look for that book. I saved ALL my books, much to my hubby's disappointment. I even have a rather large collection of Nancy Drew Mysteries, if you ever stop by and want to take a look.
Now, where was I? Yes, finding that code book. I searched my toy chest (kept that, too) and found lots of goodies, including a Chatty Cathy, Tiny Tears, and Barbie along with her friends and family. That took me about an hour, ooing and ahing over all of them. But no book.
4:00 pm: I never was one to give up, however I ran out of hiding places for the moment. So, it was on to the internet, a true cornucopia of information. Several minutes later and ta da! There it was. The cover image had been carved, burned, etched into my brain. How could I ever forget? That beautiful cover, belonging to my my childhood memory, and I found it on a vintage book website. Easy peasy!
Of course, after all that I needed to process my thoughts, and I came up with this perhaps obvious takeaway -- Childhood can be a wonderful thing, and evidently memories over a lifetime may trigger an idea or two, which may become a part of a writer's story. It has for mine. I'd like to think my stories are made of all the details of my life experience. Each and every day, from small ones to big ones, those moments are connected, linked like DNA to form my imagination. Yeah, underneath it all, sometimes in a small way or even big, it's where I believe the story starts, with my building blocks of memories.
5:00 pm: Oh, and one more thing ... after all the reminiscing and searching? I decided to write this post. Ugh. Procrastination. Now, if I can just stay away from Facebook, Twitter, and all things cyber-like, maybe I could finish that chapter ;-)
Happy writing and reading, all!
