For many of us, our Christmas tree is a walk down Memory Lane. Each year we pull out family heirlooms, children’s artwork, and special treasures to place on our trees.
Mr. Autumn and I put our tree up this week-end. This is our year to host Jordan and her husband, but our son will be with his fiancee’s family in Nebraska.
We always have a live tree. Our tree isn’t huge nor is it perfect. I heard a story once about an imperfect tree, and now I make it a point to get one with some flaws. The story was about a deer that nestled her fawn in a Christmas tree growing in the field. The fawn broke some of the limbs, but the tree kept it warm and protected. I like to imagine that our tree protected an animal from the elements.
We are lucky enough to have a few tiny ornaments that belonged to my grandmother. She died before I was born, but I am named after her.
This little ornament is just slightly larger than a thimble, but it is so delicate. It is over one hundred years old.
This one is a little larger than an atomic fireball. Knowing they belonged to my grandma means so much to me.
We have used this little angel since the beginning of our marriage. She was $1.99. I decided then when we bought it that she would always top our tree. Her little wing has disappeared into the tree, so we’ll have to search it out.
Though not beautiful or perfect, our tree is very special because it holds parts of our family’s past. It serves as a living history.