I love this picture because it is a lingering memento of Christmas. Though probably not "photogentically" perfect, it is memories of past years wrapped in sentimental ornaments, bought for little hearts or made by little hands.
The tree downstairs holds the treasures from my own life: the little felt snowman given to me in kindergarten; a Santa made by my dear friend, Kris; a painted star my mother-in-law gave to me after I admired it so; Hallmark tokens that touched me at different times in my life....all lit by white lights that give the tree one brilliant tone.
But this tree is theirs: a little boy and girl who became teenagers while my back was turned; a tree that sparkles with color because white lights could never capture who they are; a real tree because it is fragrant, lovely.......tradition. Every year they bring out their individual ornament boxes and trim the tree with memories. And every year two new ornaments are added upon the branches and into their hearts to represent a new year....a new Christmas.
This picture I love, too, because in it I see the fun of a Christmas moment: a genuine smile...an ornery look; two kids who are not just brother and sister, but best friends. I never tire of looking at them nor of the feeling that comes over me when we share times like these.
The calendar says December 28th. But I pushed pause three days ago because I'm savoring Christmas; holding fast to the magic just a little bit longer...