Memory Making
This afternoon I came across two little girls bundled in jackets and coloring together out on the front step. They were both scribbling away, filling the pages of their Charlie Brown Christmas coloring books with crayola shades like "raspberry sorbet" and "Florida sunrise." They sang "Jingle Bells" together while their hands moved in time to the beat. I stood there, unseen, listening to their voices, watching them move in and out of each other's spaces, stopping to admire each other's handiwork, and my heart swelled. This is what they'll remember.
I love the way Christmas can illustrate the melding of two families into one. Mark and I each have memories that we cherish from Christmases past and we enjoy introducing these cherished traditions into our own little family. We also enjoy creating new ones while trying to help our littles see and imagine and feel the magic that is this season.
Tonight, the smell of just baked gingerbread cookies fills our little house. The recipe belongs to a family friend and biting into the spicy crunchy-soft cookie reminds me of my own childhood. Candlelight fills each of our windows and the Christmas trees are strung with lights and ornaments--some glass and fragile, others homemade from dough and paper. On the front door hangs my grandmother's jingle bell wreath heralding the entrance of every visitor. On prominent display, visible from both the living room and the kitchen, stand three gingerbread houses, hand decorated by two girls and their architect auntie. Our holiday decorations are an eclectic blend of old and new, a fitting representation of the way Mark and I have chosen to carry on certain traditions from our childhoods and how we've begun to form our own as well.
We celebrate Sankt Nikolaus Abend on December 5; a German and Dutch tradition, it's the night in which St. Nick comes and delivers presents to good girls and boys. It's the original Santa Claus story, but this Santa was once a wealthy boy who decided to dedicate his life to helping the poor. He slipped through the night delivering money and goods to the people around him who most needed it. We like the way the original version of St. Nick's story emphasizes giving. And so we read The Legend of St. Nicholas each year and the girls put their boots outside their bedroom doors to be filled with treats. This year St. Nick left a Hershey Kiss trail from their beds to their shoes. Mark and I barely had enough time to get upstairs the next morning to watch their excitement. "He came! He came!" and "We know it's you, Mom!" Yesterday, we had our second annual hunt for the pickle ornament hidden in the Christmas tree (another German tradition), with E getting impatient to find it and A coaxing her to the right spot.
We've joined the throng of shoppers at local retailers, too, taking the kids out last night to pick up the rest of our gifts and to let them choose presents for a few special people. And it was such a great hit last year that we'll be taking the girls to see the Nutcracker again as their Christmas gift.
Little brother is making his own discoveries this year. He sampled his first gingerbread cookie this evening. What fun to watch him sitting in his chair, smacking his lips and gulping milk in his noisy way. He's unwound the ribbon off the tree half a dozen times and removed the ornaments off its bottom branches. He loves holding his hand over the lights in the front windows and seeing his skin glow warm under its bright. I think he senses the excitement on December air; he could get used to this Christmas thing--especially all the music. He's taken to singing along with it, humming and da da da-ing from his perch in the back of the van. He and his sisters performed quite a recital to "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree" a couple of nights ago. We even needed tickets to get in!
As much fun as it all is, it's easy to get swept away in the details this time of year--making lists and checking them twice. But the one thing I would love for Christmas is knowing that we kept the important things first. The Story. The Gift. Each other. It's not always easy--kids get pretty squirrely this time of year. Waiting too long for anything can get the best of them and us. Add the anticipation to more late nights for holiday festivities and you can imagine the results.
I did have a moment in the car last week on the way home from ballet that made my heart swell. Two voices singing out, each girl improvising her own music and lyrics. They sang about Christmas and Jesus and loving each other. They sang about their Uncle Dale teaching in China and sang for his safety and for him to be able to celebrate Christmas, too. They sang about helping people around the world who don't have as much as us and about being kind. I soaked up their refrains like sunshine on a warm summer day. These are the fruits, these are the fruits of the labor. As much as they love the getting, it's clear they're thinking about the giving, too.
While we enjoy the change of pace and the excitement of waiting for Christmas morning to arrive, we are grateful that the fabric that holds the five of us together is so evident at this time of year: faith and family. There are no two stronger bonds. And as E reminded me again tonight: "Mom, we're all brothers and sisters aren't we?"
Indeed.
I love the way Christmas can illustrate the melding of two families into one. Mark and I each have memories that we cherish from Christmases past and we enjoy introducing these cherished traditions into our own little family. We also enjoy creating new ones while trying to help our littles see and imagine and feel the magic that is this season.
Tonight, the smell of just baked gingerbread cookies fills our little house. The recipe belongs to a family friend and biting into the spicy crunchy-soft cookie reminds me of my own childhood. Candlelight fills each of our windows and the Christmas trees are strung with lights and ornaments--some glass and fragile, others homemade from dough and paper. On the front door hangs my grandmother's jingle bell wreath heralding the entrance of every visitor. On prominent display, visible from both the living room and the kitchen, stand three gingerbread houses, hand decorated by two girls and their architect auntie. Our holiday decorations are an eclectic blend of old and new, a fitting representation of the way Mark and I have chosen to carry on certain traditions from our childhoods and how we've begun to form our own as well.
We celebrate Sankt Nikolaus Abend on December 5; a German and Dutch tradition, it's the night in which St. Nick comes and delivers presents to good girls and boys. It's the original Santa Claus story, but this Santa was once a wealthy boy who decided to dedicate his life to helping the poor. He slipped through the night delivering money and goods to the people around him who most needed it. We like the way the original version of St. Nick's story emphasizes giving. And so we read The Legend of St. Nicholas each year and the girls put their boots outside their bedroom doors to be filled with treats. This year St. Nick left a Hershey Kiss trail from their beds to their shoes. Mark and I barely had enough time to get upstairs the next morning to watch their excitement. "He came! He came!" and "We know it's you, Mom!" Yesterday, we had our second annual hunt for the pickle ornament hidden in the Christmas tree (another German tradition), with E getting impatient to find it and A coaxing her to the right spot.
We've joined the throng of shoppers at local retailers, too, taking the kids out last night to pick up the rest of our gifts and to let them choose presents for a few special people. And it was such a great hit last year that we'll be taking the girls to see the Nutcracker again as their Christmas gift.
Little brother is making his own discoveries this year. He sampled his first gingerbread cookie this evening. What fun to watch him sitting in his chair, smacking his lips and gulping milk in his noisy way. He's unwound the ribbon off the tree half a dozen times and removed the ornaments off its bottom branches. He loves holding his hand over the lights in the front windows and seeing his skin glow warm under its bright. I think he senses the excitement on December air; he could get used to this Christmas thing--especially all the music. He's taken to singing along with it, humming and da da da-ing from his perch in the back of the van. He and his sisters performed quite a recital to "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree" a couple of nights ago. We even needed tickets to get in!
As much fun as it all is, it's easy to get swept away in the details this time of year--making lists and checking them twice. But the one thing I would love for Christmas is knowing that we kept the important things first. The Story. The Gift. Each other. It's not always easy--kids get pretty squirrely this time of year. Waiting too long for anything can get the best of them and us. Add the anticipation to more late nights for holiday festivities and you can imagine the results.
I did have a moment in the car last week on the way home from ballet that made my heart swell. Two voices singing out, each girl improvising her own music and lyrics. They sang about Christmas and Jesus and loving each other. They sang about their Uncle Dale teaching in China and sang for his safety and for him to be able to celebrate Christmas, too. They sang about helping people around the world who don't have as much as us and about being kind. I soaked up their refrains like sunshine on a warm summer day. These are the fruits, these are the fruits of the labor. As much as they love the getting, it's clear they're thinking about the giving, too.
While we enjoy the change of pace and the excitement of waiting for Christmas morning to arrive, we are grateful that the fabric that holds the five of us together is so evident at this time of year: faith and family. There are no two stronger bonds. And as E reminded me again tonight: "Mom, we're all brothers and sisters aren't we?"
Indeed.