Christmas Memories - Part I

I finished decorating the Christmas tree today.

As I worked, I went through the story of my life, revealed in Christmas ornaments. I have never spent much time thinking about the past. "Forever" is an overused word. No one is remembered forever. But once a year, I take time to remember those who went before me when I decorate the Christmas tree.  

This is the first memory. 

My mother's mother lived in California. We never knew her that well.  At Christmas we received a crate of fresh fruit and a long distance phone call.  

Besides oranges and grapefruit, the crates sometime included unusual fruit. That is how I got my first taste of pomegranate. I didn't much care for the seedy pulp, but the taste was so sweet.  Later we got Hawaiian Punch in a can. I recognized the taste immediately.  

One Christmas some time in the early 1950's Granny showed up in person . She had a present for us, she said.  It was a box of glass Christmas ornaments. She gave one to each of us kids. I don't remember the others being thrilled with their presents but I loved mine. All the bulbs went back in the box after that Christmas, to be hauled out year after year. I always made sure that I put mine on the tree. 

I became fascinated with the Christmas tree after that and made sure I was part of the decorating process. Back then the trees were cut in our own woods, fresh.  My job was to put on the tinsel.  Does anyone do that anymore? I laboriously did each strand, looking for perfection while I listened to Christmas records. My favorites were the albums of Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians, a choral group.  

And always there was that gold ornament.  As I went off to live my own life, I took it with me. Through my years of moving from one state to another, it was always carefully packed away. I  sometimes had poor excuses for trees and had only home made paper ornaments but I always had one bit of gold, my grandmother's ornament. Over fifty years, I've managed not to break it.

It is still the first ornament on the tree. It shines to the memory of my grandmother.   

***

The first box of The Glen Valley Compact arrived today. I took five to Sissy's for Saturday's book sale. I took another to the Muehl Public Library.  I told head librarian Elizabeth Timmins that I killed a librarian in it. She said she'd better take it home to read. She'll find out the sleuth is a head librarian, too.  

I have an order to fill and another to save for our postal carrier.  That leaves me with two books so I'll soon have to place another order.