I turned onto Road #1 a few nights ago when a friend called several of us to come over, eat supper, and help decorate her tree. I was not planning on decorating a tree this year, since I will be driving to Columbia on Saturday to be with David and his family for an early celebration and I am driving to Mississippi on Tuesday to be with Jennifer and her family for Christmas. There is a bow on the mailbox, a wreath on the door, and a candle in 3 of the windows.
I was already on Road #2, thinking of my mom. She adored Christmas, especially the giving part. My mom was a needleworker extrodinaire and loved making ornaments for her friend's grandchildren (as well as her own children and grandchildren.) She was a knitter, of course, but was mesmerized by needlepoint on plastic canvas. Orders from Annie's Attic and Herrshner's filled her mailbox.
I have not been as generous to my friend's grandchildren- or even my own. The ornaments were Mamama, not me. I could never fill her shoes. It was her tradition. But this year I made these as as my gift to a friend's 3 grandchildren:
And those roads? I made a quick side trip to a box. The roads became one. I can gift like Mom. My Mom's gifts live on. These are a few of her gifts to me:
They became my Mamama Tree.
I have a Christmas tree.
1 comment:
It's beautiful! I think I only have a few of hers on the tree - there's not much space, since we can only decorate the top half thanks to the cats. Maybe I can put up a smaller Mamama tree, too...
What a lovely idea!
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