Christmas Reflections

I remember our handsome family visiting in the guest parlor of our ancestral Queen Anne home, festively decorated for the holidays with gay, colorful lights festooned from a perfect, pear-shaped Christmas tree. Sleepy-eyed children, too tired from their busyness all day, cuddle on laps, clinging to old, tattered, bedtime bears. With nodding heads, they listen to animated adult conversation, content to stare at their new toys put helter-skelter beneath the tree. Their heavy-lidded eyes stay open as long as possible only to close at last.

Maiden aunts and bachelor uncles, each bedecked in faded, musty finery, delight in tidbits of Fanny Farmer candies and homemade fruitcake garnished with a liqueur. They sip brandy in etched crystal goblets, taken down on this special day from Grandma’s ‘best china’ shelf. In their raspy old voices, they retell of Christmases past when in olden days inside this very dwelling, they celebrated the birthday of the Christ Child, born of Mary beneath a glittering star.

It was the same bright star, they believed, that shines in the heavens this Christmas eve. Jesus is the true spirit of Christmas. They make a toast to our family, young and old, deeming Christ and Christmas will reign forever in our hearts.

 

 

 


Author Notes

These are my childhood memories of past Christmases when we actually draped strands of tinsel on the tree.

8 Comments for “Christmas Reflections”

says:

Patricia, wonderful write. Great imagery – brings me back to when I was young and imagined Christmas gatherings to be akin to something out a Dickens novel (in a good way). Love the language – “festooned” and “each bedecked in faded, musty finery” – it painted a great picture!

Best of all, no nits! Write on!

Anisa Claire

says:

Hey Patricia,

This is a nice piece. Brings me back to the ‘feeling’ of the season, which I always appreciate. I know Christmas is often overshadowed by those feelings of not being able to do enough, get enough, etc, but for me it always boils back to that warm ‘magical’ feeling of celebrating the people in our lives, no matter what you’re able to bring to the table.

Anisa

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