The memory of the just is blessed.
I remember one Christmas when I was a little girl how my parents had told my sister and me to go to our room and wait for a surprise. Of course, I am not sure the exact words they used but they wanted to set out our presents under the tree to open on Christmas Eve. I could hear them out in the living room moving around. It seemed to take forever. I must have been five, maybe six at the time.
In your mind, when you are that young everything in your memory seems huge. I don’t know exactly when they came and told us to come out but if I close my eyes, I can still see the door opening, looking from my room, through the hallway into the living room to the Christmas tree. I can see the hardwood floor, the color, and texture of it next to the white walls. The tree was real. The large glass Christmas tree lights in the five colors, red, green, yellow, blue and orange, wrapped around from top to bottom. The tinsel was gently moving on the branches. Even now I can still smell the metal scent on my hands after hanging it. The picture in my mind sparkles like magic.
Entering the room, glancing toward the bottom of the tree we could see all the gifts neatly arranged into two piles one, for my sister and for me. We always got matching gifts, well not exactly matching, the same thing, but different colors. If we got dolls, they were the same type of doll except for the color of the hair might be different. It was like that with our clothes too. I think it was because whatever one of us got the other wanted it too.
My mother was very creative. She liked to sew and make things. She would make clothes for our Barbie’s. I remember them being so intricate. One outfit had a wrap-around skirt that was reversible. One side was a solid color and the other side was a print. She used a piece of matching yarn to tie it all together. It was adorable. She did that with some of the outfits she made for my sister and me. Especially our Halloween costumes, she had made some of them from scratch or when sewing special dresses for some occasion.
My mom always made things nice. As I look back on those memories I realize how hard she tried to make our childhood magical. How she decorated for the holidays, made specially crafted items for the occasion. One of my favorite things to watch her do was when she made ice candles. I couldn’t believe my eyes. She poured the wax into an empty milk carton and then dropped ice down into the wax. When it hardened, she cut the carton away. There were some cool looking holes where the ice had fallen. They burned so beautifully!
When I became a mother I wanted to do those things for my kids. I wanted to plan birthday parties, make picnics fun and bring magic into my house. I was privileged to be a stay at home for a time so I tried to do that for them. I miss those days so very much, both my own childhood and my children being young when I could make everything seem magical for them. I don’t know if I did as good a job as that of my mother, I guess that will remain to be seen. Though one of the things that God has impressed upon me since my sister went home to be with the Lord on September 17, 2006, is how precious each memory is and how so important it is to pass on to our children. I hope you all have a wonderful Mother’s Day!!!