Christmas with a Grandson. 

My memories of Christmas are filled with light, carols, food, lots of family and an obscene pile of presents under the tree.  With five kids in the family there was a lot of gifting going on.  My parents weren’t rich so a lot of the presents were very small, simple gifts wrapped in a big exciting box.  It was the joy of opening and finding this secret that has been held within these wrappings for weeks prior to the morning of the 25th. 

One present at a time was handed out and we all sat and watched the unfolding of the magic held within. One-at-a-time we would slowly work through that mountain of colored wrappings, taking all morning to get to the last tiny box sitting on a bow of the tree.  Christmas morning, there was never a rush to get it over.  We’d waited a lifetime for it to arrive so we took it slow and savored it all.

I still have my rag doll that Santa left under my stocking when I was five.  I have a very large, black stuffed poodle that I awoke to beside me in my bed on the morning of my fourth birthday.  I have memories of all this from about three years old.  At one years old I remember nothing.

I won’t be supplying my grandson with boxes and boxes of presents this Christmas.  At one years old any object given may simply be that for a while.  I have a file drawer filled with children's books I have collected and saved over most of my adult life. They will be worlds to travel through with him.  We have a home in a secluded valley filled with streams, forests, fields and beaver bogs where treasures hide; British soldiers stand guard to the reindeer lichen, the pixie cups wait for the elves to come sip from their rim and the brilliant orange of witches butter dazzles from the dead stumps.  Barred and Great Horned owls call at night waiting to hear an answering call. Standing on the deck we can answer those wishful callings and draw them closer to us during these silent nights.  

There will be tiny weasel tracks to follow with the coming snow and a sled for gliding down the hill to the lower field.  Gifts of time with each other is what we will share with him this Christmas.  The first wobbly steps of memories being laid before him with people who love him. A love that is equal to the great canopy of stars over our heads at night.

This will be our Christmas for our one year old grandson this year.

And for a lifetime of years to come.