The innocence of a child can make the world a magical place. As long as the child feels secure and her basic needs are met, the cares and stresses of the world even her world have not quite impacted her yet. Through my eyes I grew up in a magical countryside. A canopy of crab apple petals that would be the perfect setting for a fairy world flows into an expedition through a cornfield. Followed by a bedazzled winter scape beckoning one to come out and play. Through my mom's eyes, the world was not quite as magical. My parents divorced when I was in the first grade. Her world was consumed by providing for her four children ranging in age from two to eight in the middle of no where. Daily winter concerns would be cutting wood for the wood burning stove, keeping the wood burning stove burning to heat the house, feeding the family on little to no child support, making the best of living in a home that was tore up in the middle of a remodel that was never finished, and making it down the snow covered drive to get to the grocery store. This does not even include decorating for Christmas and buying gifts. I wondered recently why I never felt the impact of all of this. I believe it was because love abounded in our home and God became a father to the fatherless and the defender of a widow which mom basically was. (Psalm 67:4) We were also a part of a church that took to heart the verse in James 1:27, look after orphans and widows. One year this church sent Santa to visit the little house in the big woods to deliver gifts that each child would love. A rubik's cube for my brother, Barbie clothes for me and stuffed animals for my sisters. This visit from Santa is just one of my favorite childhood Christmas memories. Out of necessity my mom was one resourceful creative natural decorator. She included us in helping make the decorations. We used cookie cutters to cut out Christmas shapes in salt dough to make ornaments for the tree. She strung popcorn and cranberries to make a garland for the tree. A tradition I continue in our home, most likely for nostalgic reasons. Another favorite memory was visiting a local tree farm, one with a box out front where you put in what you can for a tree. That year without my dad, my brother cut down the tree, by the way did I mention he was only nine. This is a picture of that tree. My brother and I had the best times coloring in our giant Around the World Christmas coloring book under the lights of the tree. Those moments were filled with much laughter until the time he cracked his tooth on mom's iron sewing machine base. Probably not one of his favorite memories. Looking back now there is some reality mixed in with the magic. Although we did not have a lot, we did have love and each other. And, a Heavenly Father who always had our back and provided for our needs, sometimes just in the nick of time but never late.
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AuthorI am a woman who loves everything about making a house a home. I enjoy meal planning, cooking, baking, sewing, crafting, and decorating. Not so much cleaning and laundry, but that goes along with caring for a home. I am blessed to be married to a pastor and we have had the privilege of raising two daughters. Archives
July 2021
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