I take my Christmas Tree down on the feast of the Epiphany (The celebration of the Three Wise Men reaching the baby Jesus under yonder star - Jan 6th ) just like my mom always did.
As I sat upon the floor, carefully wrapping all those ornaments for another years’ storage, I thought how sad it is that they only get a few weeks to show off every year.
I have so much fun rediscovering them when I decorate the tree. When I went away to college, Santa started to leave Winnie-the-Pooh ornaments in my stocking each Christmas. I have quite a collection now, and they are all so charming I smile like a fool as I take each one out of it's box.
Most of my other ornaments are variations on snowmen. So cute and jolly, I can even remember where I was when I found each one. Sometimes I pick them up on vacation, so they do hold significant meaning and memories.
There is another category of ornaments made up of gifts. Gleaned as souvenirs from trips my friends have made. One is from the Church staff where I once taught CCD class. Another signifying the anniversary of the work on Crazy Horse Memorial, was given to me by Ruth Ziolkowski, wife of the original sculptor of the mountain, Korczak.
Surely, everyone has sentimental feelings for their ornaments. I had the same feeling when I helped my mom decorate the tree as a little girl. Tonight, that’s where my thoughts seemed to dwell.
I thought, “How can these trinkets be so special when they are only special to me? This experience, awash with memories…it’s meant to be shared.” So as I tucked one more Pooh Bear along with Tigger into it’s original collector’s box, I made a little wish on the star they are holding: Maybe it was more of a statement of confidence… “Next year, I’ll have someone to share these with.”