Yahoo! News asked writers from the Yahoo! Contributor Network to share their personal holiday tales and traditions. Below is a story from a contributor.
[Your Voice: What holiday stories or traditions do you have to share? Sign up to contribute.]
When I was born in 1985, my mother was 21 years old, and I was the second of what would become three children. At the time she worked at our local Walmart store and apparently loved meandering through the craft department before leaving for the day. Evidence of this was present throughout our home for years. The evidence I treasure most is my Christmas stocking.
My mother made both my Christmas stocking and my older brother's from do-it-yourself craft kits. My older brother's stocking was much larger than mine, large enough, in fact, to accommodate the entire poem "'Twas the Night before Christmas" in generously sized type on the back with a multi-story home on the front. My stocking was better suited to a bungalow and "Happy Holidays," but it featured neither.
Instead, my stocking was a tiny by comparison red masterpiece with an illustration of Santa about to sneak down the chimney carrying a bag full of toys. There was lace around the opening and a decided quilt pattern on either side. It was beautiful. Even though it may not have held a lot of Christmas candy, it always held my Christmas candy.
I loved my stocking every Christmas of my consciousness, and I still do. When I knew I would be getting married, I went into the family holiday box and swiped my stocking away from my mother's watchful eye. She would have kept it for family celebrations, but I needed it for myself as I ventured forward and started my own family.
It is one of the few Christmas ornaments I have kept most of my life. I also have a miniature nativity set featuring Jesus, Mary and Joseph crafted of imitation Precious Moments-esque characters. They are my year-round companions, but I appreciate them more at Christmas when they are a subtle, pastel reminder of a time in my life when I thought Christmas was really the birthday of baby Jesus and could actually use the phrase "reason for the season."
On Christmas Day, this miniature holy family will watch the colorized version of the original Miracle on 34th Street with me. My mother, father and brothers will be 1,000 miles away, fragmented now, and not at all the people I grew up with. My stocking will be 10 feet away, as bright and cohesive as it always has been, and a treasured memory of the family members I love but the family I have lost.
There are no comments yet