Childhood Memories

Nothing beats a Christmas tree with ornaments that have been around since you were a kid.
They are falling apart, the angel is missing her wings, the snowman is missing an eye, the wooden horses leg is broken and dangling. No doubt anyone else looking at these would see trash, but the wear and tear are the things that make them warm. These are our memories. Up until I had a child of my own, I used to scoff at my mom for keeping these raggity ornaments and tree. She'd always say these ones were perfectly good, and so I always thought she was just too cheap to buy shiny new ones. For Khai's first Christmas, we put up a new tree. New ornaments and lights.... Khai was still too young to really care.
The next year, my mom put up her old tree and ornaments. Still at that point Khai wasn't too into the concept of Christmas. He was intrigued by the lights but they could have been any lights and he'd have been happy just as well. This year, he's old enough to be truly excited, eager to put up the tree, eager to help hang the ornaments, calling it HIS tree. This year the old tree and its ratty ornaments really changed their meaning to me. Watching my baby boy hang the paper reindeer I made when I was five, the four weird looking Santas that used to creep me out, the random ornaments collected from the various countries I'd lived in growing up, and best of all....him adding his crayon colored, paper ornaments proudly next to mine.....
him placing his little hand on the very first ornament we made together when he was a year old - a hand print - and seeing how big his tiny hand has gotten since then... adding new memories to the old.