I love Christmas - always have, and always will. In my childhood Christmas was a magical time. Our pleasures were simple. As siblings we often teamed up in order to buy nicer gifts for each other. I helped my mother bake all kinds of cookies and squares to bring out during the holidays. We put up a real Christmas tree and the house had a wonderful woodsy smell. For our family it was a time of fun and happiness, and the warmth of family was easily felt. For our friends it was a place of hospitality, where they would be welcomed with cookies and ginger ale.
When my sons were young I tried to recreate that kind of Christmas enchantment, in spite of the fact that our budget was often tight. Two different motifs show up in abundance in my holiday decorating - both "cheap and cheerful" - and I'll explain the significance of each.
Snowflakes and Stars
Snow to cleanse the frozen ground,
stars to pierce the night,
symbols that I spread around -
Christmas they invite.
Snowflakes on my windowpane -
cheap, and simply made -
and their presence I'll explain;
why they're thus displayed.
Each unique and cut by hand
they lend winter cheer -
a tradition that has spanned
from our poorest year.
Stars that grace the coldest night,
lighting earth below.
See them shining - oh, so bright! -
on the frozen snow.
When upon the sea he'd roam,
seeking haven dry,
stars could guide a sailor home
if he'd read the sky.
Stars upon my Christmas tree
sparkle to remind -
When home's light you wish to see,
love is what you find.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, November 28, 2018
Snowflakes
A lot of people in my small town comment on the snowflakes that I put on my door every Christmas, and here's the story of how that tradition was born.
One year, when the boys were about three and four, I decided I wanted to decorate the house for Christmas. I truly had no decorating budget, but I did have a stack of mostly usable white paper at my disposal. So I cut out some paper snowflakes and taped them to the long, tall window that flanked the front door of our townhouse. When the light outside the front door was turned on, those snowflakes cast beautiful shadows in our entrance. My sons loved those snowflakes so much that they insisted I leave them up as long as the "real snow" lasted, and they asked for more of them the following winter.
Every year since then I've covered my windows with hand cut paper snowflakes. As my sons got older I taught them how to cut proper (six-sided!) paper snowflakes, and they'd help me arrange them in windows. At the end of winter I'd take them down, discarding the ones that were too tattered, and put the others, tape side down, on long sheets of waxed paper to roll up and save for the next year.
Now I'm getting older and I feel the cold more than I used to, but I refuse to become one of those crotchety people who hates snow. I live in Canada (for goodness sake!) - where snow is a fact of life - and it seems to me that those who complain endlessly about it make winter miserable for themselves and everyone around them. I really like snow. It's fresh and pure and glittery. I think of it as a beautiful white blanket that covers all the roots in the earth. It sparkles in the sunlight, and it reflects starlight at night. Yes, it's cold - just bundle up warm and enjoy it!
Snowflakes amaze me. As a child I was told that every snowflake was unique. When I first saw a snowflake under a magnifying glass I was astounded by how beautiful and fragile it was - here one moment; gone the next. They are a perfect metaphor for our individual lives - each is different, and their duration depends on circumstances. One snowflake, on a warm hand, melts quickly. Another, falling on frosty ground lasts, and when joined by many others, creates a layer of snow.
Like snowflakes, we need others of our kind around us. We can survive alone, but we thrive in company with our own.
The paper snowflakes on my windows remind me of some basic life lessons we'd all do well to heed. Sometimes the simple, inexpensive things are the most beautiful and inspiring. (My windows have inspired a little "flakiness" in my community.) Some of the most fragile things - and people - can join forces and change the climate in ways both good and bad. Every individual is unique, and we need to surround ourselves with other unique beings to really shine. And finally, life is short - enjoy all the beauty you can while you're here.
Stars
Once upon a time I had a friend who confessed that his Christmas tree had no decorations. At the time I worked at a health food store, and often, on my break, I'd stretch my legs by going to the dollar store next door. (Okay - I'll admit that sometimes I'd buy chocolate. Don't judge me! Chocolate has therapeutic effects. But that's another post...) Anyhow, one day, after ruminating on the sadness that my friend's naked tree represented, I was in said dollar store - and a bag of sparkly, metallic pipe cleaners caught my eye and fueled my imagination.
Once back in my quiet, customer-less store, I took one out of the bag and began twisting it. What simple thing could I shape from this lovely bit of bendable bling ? I fiddled a while, and a star was born! So I made all the metallic pipe cleaners in the bag into stars for my friend's tree. I liked them so well that I bought another bag on the way home from work so that I could make some for my tree too.
Every year since then I've hung those stars on my tree. They are another creative and inexpensive decor innovation that morphed into a family tradition. (We also have a golden, pipe cleaner submarine, a tribute to the Beatles, that also gets a spot on the family Christmas tree every year.)
I love stars too, and have many fond memories of looking up into star-filled skies in northern Ontario where I was raised. Stars fascinate me - tiny pinpricks of light seen from earth are actually massive, flaming suns to other planets. Mind blown! I love knowing that stars create a map in the sky for sailors and explorers to navigate by. It thrills me to know that we can find our way home by following the stars.
One of my simple pleasures at this time of year is taking an evening walk to enjoy the Christmas lights my neighbours put up. There is something soul satisfying about walking in the crisp evening air - stars reflecting off the sparkling snow - and enjoying the coloured lights that are pretty and fun, but merely a cheap imitation of what the heavens offer us. Often these are solitary rambles. I walk alone, on these nights, but I'm not lonely.
The stars above will light my way home - to a snowflake covered door - and behind that door is love.
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