Tree of memories

Taking a break from all my serious posts for a bit to give you a piece of foolishness.

Every year on the blessed Friday after Thanksgiving I have a tradition. That's the day that my house is decorated and I honor the traditional watching of Miracle on 34th St. No one beats Mara Wilson as Susan. No one. You might consider that to be an opinion, but I would steadfastly defend it to be fact. :)

Anyway, as I pulled out all my decorations I started thinking about which ones meant something to me.
Two years ago, a family that I'd been with a lot (I stayed with their children while the parents went through adoption training classes) knew I was waiting until after Christmas to buy some decorations for my house. My mother raised me well in that I know that decorations are unfortunately, best bought after the holiday has already passed. Well, this family did the same thing. Right after Christmas they went shopping for decorations and wrapped them. I was then called to their house for "Christmas". The girls had decorated the fireplace with a banner for me and I opened gift after gift of insanely discounted Christmas decorations.
Those are the decorations scattered around my house right now.
When I got to decorating the tree though, that's when I realized something. I wasn't interested in decoration for decorations sake this year. I might not do this every year, but this year I wanted only the ornaments that meant something to me. I have some crocheted decorations from friends in New York. They sent them to me for my birthday, and I remember waiting until we were all online to open their gifts. Those beautiful and unique ornaments grace my tree right now.
They grace my tree right next to the snowman made of felt and cotton and a bell and lots of glue. That was the gift from one of the girls I had stayed with. The other girl made me a reindeer that unfortunately I haven't been able to find.
And last year, after my niece and nephew got up in the middle of the night and seemingly ransacked my tree, (seriously, when I started taking the tree down after Christmas I discovered my nephews sock in there) I didn't have much "Christmas spirit" in me to want to redo the whole thing. That very day a package arrived, again, from my friends in New York with some ornaments, and 4 very delicate and precious glass ornaments. It was just the boost I needed to remember Christmas wasn't about the tree so much as my Savior that knows my needs before I need them. The Savior that put a package in the mail for me before I ever needed it. The Lamb that was born to die thousands of years before I would ever live to need Him to do that. Those 4 precious and delicate ornaments are on my tree right now.
Last year my family all went out to an event called "Ice" and walking out of that amazing display I noticed some gingerbread man ornaments. I blabbed on for too long about how much I liked them, and the next thing I knew my brother had grabbed one and headed to the checkout. Moments later I was holding my own gingerbread man ornament. As I look at it today I'm reminded of a God that loves us enough to give us the desires of our hearts.

This year my tree is meaningful. I like to think of it not as decorated, but adorned. And as I look at my tree, I'm more than alright with the bare spots. Those spots leave me room to grow. They tell me of so many memories yet to be had. And I can hardly wait.