The twinkle of lights bounce off the sleek hardwood floor. Sounds of a Country Christmas float through the air. A cat is curled up on the handmade tree skirt. It’s my favorite thing this time of year, snuggled on the couch with just the light of the tree to guide my evening.
The ornaments come from far and wide and bring together the beginnings of his, mine, ours, and hers. From the Dan Marino, to the Christmas pickle, to the decrepit unicorn, to the handprint snowman, the ornaments are our storytellers.
A story that remains largely unwritten. But you can be sure that every year, there will be a tree that sparkles and connects the past to today.
This tree, with those ornaments, that has seen better days but remains year after year. The tree that traipsed up three flights of stairs to grace the living room of our first apartment. Adorned with the obligatory “our first home” ornament right alongside the baby’s first christmas circa 1978, piece de resistance. This tree that followed us to our first house sits all a sparkle tonight and is a throwback to the tree that I crawled under every year growing up.
This tree brings peace to my heart. And in a time when it seems that peace is few and far between, I know how important and vital it is to savor these snippets. Whenever, however, and wherever we can.