Decking all of the Halls
Our house looks the most like home when it’s decorated for Christmas. My fondest and most vivid memories of childhood come out the holiday season, which is one reason why Christmas feels like home. There are certain decorations that my parents have owned since I was baby, and they give me profound nostalgia.
We also acquire new decorations every year. My dad is always on the look out for antique ornaments. Our tree is known for its collection of vintage bulbs. We have more ornaments than tree space now, so we think of other ways to display some of our favorites.
This year we’ve put part of the Santa collection on the mantel. The painting is one we’ve always had. I used to think that Santa’s bag was actually the top of a stairwell and the doll was a little girl who spotted St. Nick. I’m not sure why I didn’t figure out that those were toys. When my parents were self-employed making whistles for Schuett Folkart Originals, my dad made a lot of different Santas. We don’t have any on display this year, but my favorite part of these decorations is how different and unique they each are. It’s amazing to me how different cultures have developed their own legends for Saint Nicholas, and I love learning about the different traditions.
Everyone loves Santa’s Disco and tree farm. Dad made the log cabin dollhouse for me when I was maybe four years old, and we’ve found the perfect method of displaying it. It’s a great house for our collection of Christmas trees. And when Dad put the flashing red and green lights in it with a Santa looking out the window we knew Santa’s Disco had been discovered. It’s a staple now.
This weekend we’ve been working on putting out all of our favorites. It’s work. There are a lot of boxes to go through, and no matter how much thought we put into putting away everything, it’s still hard to find what we need the next year. It’s a maze or boxes and lids and tissue paper to get everything just right. And we’d be lying if we said it was all cheer and happy thoughts while we tripped over strings of light and knocked over precariously stacked totes.
Once it’s done though we can see that all of the stress is worth it.
I can’t help but think of the metaphor in it all.
This year I’m trying to be aware and conscious of the way we prepare for the season. I’m thinking about the way we prepare our hearts and our homes and our tables. And how all of those things work together to create the holiday.
In order to get this beautiful home full of decorations we have to wade through the mess. And to get the delicious cookies and sweets we have to dirty the whole kitchen and clean it up again. And this beautiful thing happens in our hearts only after we admit the mess in ourselves.
I think our house feels most like home when decorated for Christmas because there are constant reminders that, even though there was no room in the inn for my Savior, He has made a home for us.
