My Christmas Tree

There are sixteen days left untill the first day of winter, yet we were visited today by a steady cold rain. It was nearly dark by four this afternoon. I turned on the Christmas tree in the den to provide a false warmth and comforting glow as I snuggled under my favorite electric throw with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

There are 400 miniture white lights on the tree, an ornament for each light, and a story or memory for each ornament. Oh, the memories those fragile blown glass beauties hold. It is a miracle that they have survived the years, countless moves, and sticky little fingers, but the real miracle is that the memories happened at all.

The 400 ornaments on my tree paint a canvas of my life. They are my living diary. While some of them have been washed by tears, all of them have been handled and kept by love.

Like some human birthdays today, a handful of my ornaments date prior to 1900. Some hung on my parent's Christmas trees when they were little. Others are from my childhood trees.

And so, each year as I add new ornaments, new stories are gathered, and the miracles continue.