At their very best, traditions provide a rhythm in the passing of time and connect us to something larger than ourselves: each of us being one small part of a family, a community, a faith more expansive than our self, our home, our limited sphere. The threads of tradition tie us to generations past and generations to come. They add dimension, flavor and color to the daily-ness of our routines. At their very best, they bring a rich variety. And traditions so often beg to be shared in ways that further expand our circles.
So it is with my most enduring and favorite holiday tradition: homemade ornaments. I have fond memories of making ornaments as a youngster, each year adding to the collection that decorated our tree. One year we decoupaged images cut from Christmas napkins onto Styrofoam balls, inserting twisted pipe cleaners to serve as hangers. Another year, Mom saved foam meat trays, and cut them with heated metal cookie cutters for us to decorate (like so many children’s art projects) with glitter. For the larger space at the bottom of the tree, we made cardboard cut-outs in the shape of gingerbread men, which we first painted brown, then “frosted” with white paint. Every year as we decorated the tree, I would search for my gingerbread man, recognizable by a sloppy blob of paint-frosting atop his head. As my siblings and I got older, the tradition of making ornaments fell by the wayside. Later, as empty nesters, Mom and Dad stopped putting up a tree. {Sigh}
But traditions have a life of their own, don’t they? Tailored from year to year, mutating as they are passed from family to family. Some die out, but others grow; and we can always revive or reinvent the ones that are dear to us. Several years after I moved out, Mom resumed making ornaments (or maybe she herself had never stopped?)…. She enjoyed selecting a new bauble each year and practicing the process. Not bothering with a tree of her own, she shared her creations with friends and family. I failed to save the ornaments from my childhood, but I treasure the ones Mom sent us in those years.
One December, Barry and I were planning a visit home, and Mom was excited at the thought of once again making ornaments together. She had an idea: wooden spools painted and decorated as snowmen. She had gathered the supplies, and we were both looking forward to the time we would spend crafting side by side. However, by the time of our visit, Mom’s cancer had taken a turn, and she was hospitalized and quite weak while we were there. About a month later, knowing she didn’t have much time left, the whole family assembled for one last goodbye. If you’ve ever experienced this sort of thing, maybe you can relate to the surreal nature of our gathering: what is undeniably a somber occasion can still somehow include laughter and lighthearted moments (such as doing crafts). Mom was physically weak, but she was able to enjoy our company and listening to our conversations. The craft supplies remained at the ready, so my sisters-in-law and I went to work on the snowmen. That was the beginning of a new morph in this particular holiday tradition.
Something about the way those days unfolded—Mom’s excitement for planning the craft, the way she oohed and aahed over each unique ornament as we shared them with her—made me determined to carry the torch of this tradition. I find it amazing to ponder the way individual threads come together in unique ways to form the fabric of our lives. People have different ways of understanding and explaining this phenomenon, but I’m convinced these threads passed through the hands of God, the Creator and Ruler of the universe. Every year now since 2013 I’ve handcrafted a different style of ornament, and it is the highlight, not just of the holiday season, but of my year! I’m already starting on this year’s ornament and considering what theme to write about. That first year, I shared them with a small group of friends, but my own tradition has changed over the years to focus more on sharing ornaments with people I encounter as I go about my business during the holidays. Shopping, errands, appointments; I’ve gotten such joy sharing ornaments with those I cross paths with. I’m thinking about how I might tweak the tradition for this year. You can read more about my Mom’s life, and my taking up the torch here in the first of my ornament letters—my own unique twist on Mom’s tradition. I’m so thankful for the way crafting these ornaments connects me to my Mom and to my childhood. As I stretch to share it in my circle, I hope it blesses others as much as it blesses me!
So what about you? Do you have a favorite holiday tradition, or have you revived or reshaped a family tradition? Share in the comments section, or shoot me a message—I’d love to hear from you!