Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Thursday, December 10, 2015
― Charles Dickens,
It is also good (wonderful!) to be a grandmother at Christmas. To share in the wonder of twinkle lights and cookie baking, to give even your tea table a Christmas dress and cover tiny trees with pretty decorations. Nora brings us the delight of her joy this season, making it all new again for everyone in our family. She runs around discovering every tiny manger scene, angel, and Santa. She loves dancing to all the sweet carols. I find myself being astonished and full of wonder in new ways and saying it just like she does: "OOOH! Wow!"
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
She doesn't mind my crackly voice singing "A, You're Adorable." We make it through that song every diaper change. If there is an entire clothing change, we sometimes get through several songs from The Sound of Music! She talks to me with her eyes to say thank you, and flashes a coquettish grin when I brush her hair.
Yesterday we walked outside to catch a raindrop and she smelled a basil leaf when I made my lunch. She likes dots and patterns so I choose the blouse I will wear for her. We play peek a boo and pat a cake and chant nursery rhymes. When I rock her to sleep, I sing many of the same old hyms that my mother and grandmother sang to me. We have discovered that Christmas carols are wonderful lullabies!
Our other granddaughters are a joy to me and teach me just like she does that there is so much to look forward to. They help me remember some favorite lines from a poem by Mary Oliver: "Pay attention.
Tell about it."
- all so much more fun when we do it together!
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Cutting paper snowflakes can make young children into magicians and grandmas into little girls again. There is mystery involved in the folding, choosing just the right place to cut, and carefully trimming little triangles and curves and slashes. But there is wonder in the unfolding! Much like the real ones, no two snowflakes turn out exactly the same. I have never lost that sense of expectation and trying to imagine how this one is going to turn out.
Forty-nine years ago Joe and I celebrated our first Christmas as a married couple. That December found us far from our Texas family and friends, in Corvallis, Oregon. The original plan for Joe to enter graduate school there had been delayed. In the meantime, he did any odd job available, including painting houses. I worked as a nurse in a busy pediatric practice within walking distance of our apartment. One of our doctors had a farm outside of town where we were invited to come cut a Christmas tree. We tramped around the hillside brushing away blackberry vines to find a perfect small Grant pine. Its symmetrical, graceful branches had wide spaces that were perfect for decorating. But we were beginning our home and our traditions. We had no old familiar ornaments to unbox and remember. We also had no extra money in the budget for buying same. So we hung a few candy canes, made some string balls from twine and starch and balloons, and carefully cut lacy snowflakes. That year I knitted my new husband a green sweater with sleeves twice as long as his arms. He painted a tiny recipe box for me and pasted "Good Things You Can Fix" on top.
The photograph is the few snowflakes that remain after all these years. I framed them last year for a gift for Joe. This year we will remember our 1964 snowflakes when we make paper snowflakes with our grandchildren. If you have never cut a snowflake, try this project. You will agree with Charles Dickens - "It is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child himself."
For some wonderfully fancy paper snowflakes, visit www.bontempsbeignet.blogspot.ca/2011/11/faux-sneaux-flakes.html