ornament memories

At Christmas, Grandma always decorated with two kinds of Christmas decorations.

Her front room was blue.  The fluffy, flocked tree filled up the front window with it's azure lights, white and silver glass balls, and birds in nests as ornaments.  This room was strictly forbidden for little people. I think only the home teachers ever got to sit in there.  I would catch a glimpse of the blue magic from outside, through the window, as we drove up, or I'd sneak a peek as I passed the front room, heading down the hall.  It was mysterious and special.

In Grandma's family room, however, red and green ruled the holiday decor.  The tree was trimmed with less-breakable things and lots of little Christmas knick knacks were displayed on shelves, the mantle and in Grandma's curio cabinet.  On the hearth, in the corner, sat Mr. and Mrs. Snow: homemade crocheted snowmen Grandma must have made in Homemaking at some point.  They had pom-pom eyes and pom-pom smiles.  She crocheted them each a hat; he wore a scarf and she, a shawl. They were frumpy and funny and always there, every Christmas, when Grandma's house turned magic for the holidays.

Grandma passed away 10 years ago this Christmas Eve.  At some point, during some great house clean-out, Mr. and Mrs. Snow came to live with me.  Chad wished we hadn't adopted this odd looking pair (missing a few pom-poms, no less) but I couldn't part with the memories they held.  I cleaned them up and, each Christmas, would set them out in our little apartment, much to Chad's chagrin.

I still have Mr. and Mrs.  They are too hokey to set out on my mantle, but I like to tuck them in, among the branches, in my Christmas tree.  Their pom-pom eyes and smiles are long gone (thank heavens), but those crocheted accessories still remind me of the hands that created them: the way she loved Christmas and presents, homemade holiday candy and family get-togethers.  And magic.  She definitely loved Christmas Magic.

Miss you, much.  Merry Christmas, Grandma!